And the Lord Taketh Away
by muchbeddled
Summary: <html><head></head>A son is born, only to waste away. Love and courage see them through life's challenges. Allan finds love, and Gisbourne's son is redeemed.Set after Saving Prince Arthur, but you do not have to have read it to appreciate story.</html>
1. Chapter 1

"Not bein' funny, but you won't believe what she had strapped to her garter!"

Allan's bawdy, fabricated story would have to wait, for the unmistakable, long awaited cry of a newborn infant interrupted his tale, rendering it inconsequential.

The faces of the former outlaws broke into relieved and joyful smiles, as they downed mugs of ale and tried to slap Robin's back in congratulations. The men had gathered for support downstairs in Locksley Manor when Much had told them how very long it was taking Marian to deliver the new baby. But its cry told it had arrived at last, and Robin darted up the steps two at a time before any of his friends had a chance to congratulate him.

Grinning broadly, Robin paused an instant outside the heavy oaken door to his bedchamber, breathing a prayer of thanksgiving. Then, carefully pushing it open, he entered reverently to kiss his wife and meet their new child.

Matilda, who had delivered both himself and his two daughters in this very room, stood wearily by a basin of water, washing bloody cloths. She looked up when Robin entered, a perturbed look marring her smile, and said, "Congratulations, Papa."

Robin was immediately on his knees by his wife's bedside. Marian lay back on bolsters, her hair damp against her forehead, her face pale and exhausted, but her eyes shone triumphant. The babe was already latched onto her breast.

"You're going to need to teach your son some manners," she teased. "I told him he should wait until you arrived before beginning his dinner, but he refused."

His son! They had a boy!

"Well," Robin answered, smiling as if he'd never stop, "who can blame him, when offered a choice between my face or your breast? He wouldn't be my son now, would he, if he didn't-"

"Grow up, Locksley," Marian scolded weakly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "How are the girls?" she asked, missing her little ones.

Robin sat beside her on the bed, smiling back and forth from her tired eyes to the back of their son's head. A thrill shot through his fingertips when he reached out and touched his son's soft dark hair. How he longed to hold the tiny body and look upon his yet unseen face!

"Sleeping peacefully, under the Scarlet roof." He chuckled. "I was briefly called away to help put Gracie to bed. She was plenty mad she couldn't kiss you goodnight."

"Poor Djaq," Marian smiled. She took secret pride that Gracie calmed only for her.

"And Ellie was good as gold, of course?" she asked.

"Of course," Robin agreed smugly. "She takes after her father, you know. I wonder who this one will take after? Not that I don't love Grace, mind you, but-"

Matilda cut him off. "Come over here, Papa," she muttered. "I need a word with you."

Marian closed her eyes now, weak from labor. Too excited to sleep, she was nonetheless completely spent.

The babe released her, too weak himself to eat.

...

**(Note: During this period of the Middle Ages, it was not uncommon for ladies of rank to nurse their own infants. Wet nurses were common, as well, but it was a choice within families). **


	2. Chapter 2

"Robin, listen to me."

Matilda dreaded bringing the proud new papa out of the clouds and back down to earth, but what she had to say couldn't wait.

"You need to send for a priest."

"A priest? What for?"

The grin on Robin's face slowly faded as comprehension set in. A priest at this time could only mean one thing...two things.

He found it difficult to speak...hard to breathe even. "Not Marian?" he begged.

Matilda eyes softened. "Gisbourne failed to kill her...twice. Do you think she's going to leave you so easily? No, not her. I'm worried about your lad. He may not make it through the night."

Robin's face betrayed his feelings, as he forced himself to grapple with Matilda's harsh words. He respected her enough however to take her at her word, no matter how much he wanted to deny the truth.

"Right," he said bravely, then returned to Marian's side.

He tried to excuse himself so he could go downstairs and ask Much to bring a priest, but when Marian scooted over to make room for him on the bed, he couldn't resist sitting down beside her. She proudly passed him the tiny bundle, and he found himself amazed at how light it was.

He couldn't speak as he gazed into the sleeping face of his tiny son. How could he send for a priest, when he couldn't even leave the bed? For he didn't think he could. Marian snuggled closely beside him, their son slept safely in the shelter of his arms, and he was expected to walk away? Let him have this moment first! Let Marian have this moment, before his words robbed her of her joy!

"I've decided," Marian told him lovingly. "We'll call him 'Richard,' just as you wanted. He looks like a Richard."

This beautiful, tiny, dark headed baby looked nothing like Robin's memory of the larger than life, powerful, golden warrior king he had idolized. "Richard," he breathed softly.

"Well, now that's settled," Matilda said, "you can have him baptized and christened at once. I'll bring the priest myself." She hurredly left the room.

Marian looked confused by Matilda's hurry. Still, she was glad to finally be alone with Robin and their baby. She lay back in the bed, sighing with contentment.

"Put him between us," she requested. "I want to see him, too."

Robin gently laid the bundle down beside her, then kicked off his boots and climbed under the blanket. He took Marian's hand, entwining his fingers through hers over their baby's head.

"Heaven," Marian sighed.

"You're mighty pensive, Handsome," she continued, confused by his silence and serious expression.

He still couldn't bring himself to tell her.

"Who's downstairs?" she asked, aware at last of the male voices in their home. "Much, of course, but who else?"

"John, Will, Allan," Robin answered.

"The gang!" Marian laughed.

"Minus Djaq." He finally managed to smile back at her. "Someone had to stay and watch our girls."

"Well, since they're here, would you like to invite them up to meet the newest member? That is, if they can do it quietly."

Marian's voice was making everything feel alright. Robin pushed the thoughts he didn't want to deal with to the back of his mind. "You haven't forgotten how quiet we all had to be, lying in wait to ambush a cart in the forest, have you? But I'll tell them." He climbed out of bed, and bent to kiss her. One long lingering kiss wasn't enough, so he stole another one. And another. Marian finally held him back.

"Bring them here before they finish off all the ale. I want to see them. How do I look?" she asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Gorgeous, as always," Robin answered, his voice strong with love. His step and his grin were jaunty again, as he descended the staircase to summon his men.


	3. Chapter 3

Marian wanted to laugh as the men from Robin's former outlaw gang entered her room. Except for Wiil, who entered with his usual quiet dignity, the rest looked so out of place it was funny.

Much, of course, was at Robin's heels. He appeared cheery on Robin's ale. Poor Much! Marian thought. He'd most likely been so worried over her baby's lengthy delivery, he had since overindulged a bit in his immense relief.

Little John seemed to fill the entire room. Marian found his attempts to enter quietly quite hilarious, as he carefully stepped around the finely carved, ancient furnishings in her bedchamber. He paused at every step, as if that would still his heavy footfalls! He, too, appeared worse for drink, and if that were the case, then there probably wasn't any ale left at all downstairs!

And as for Allan! Allan had entered breezily, smiling his usual, naughty boy grin. Marian knew him well enough from their year of friendship when they both lived at Nottingham Castle, she could detect a slight degree of his being uncomfortable in this situation. So, she wondered what bawdy remark would he throw her way to amuse the others? He did not disappoint.

"Not bein' funny, but I always figured when you finally got around to invitin' me to your bedchamber, the rest of these gents wouldn't be here. Especially not him," he said, indicating Robin, who immediately seized him in a headlock. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Allan cried, while Robin grinned, his eyes shining as they always did when winning a fight, "I take it back! I WAS bein' funny!"

"Is that what you call it?" Marian teased, cradling her precious baby proudly in her arms.

Much, always a stickler for details, corrected, "You've been in her bedchamber before, Allan, on several occasions. And always, Marian...always, you've been in bed! Funny, that, if you think of it. The first time was at Knighton...remember? We were all there, after Gisbourne had stabbed you. Remember, Robin? You were really upset. Of course, you thought she was planning to marry Gisbourne! No wonder you were bothered. I've often wondered, Marian, just what would have happened to you if you had gone through with it. I mean, you know...the wedding night and all. How did you expect to hide your wound from your new husband? I mean, what do you think Gisbourne would have done to you when he-"

"Much, shut up!" Allan, Little John, and Will had mercifully stopped the endless flow of blather from Much's mouth, but their command had awakened baby Richard.

The infant squirmed slightly, his eyelids fluttering. His cry was nothing more than a weak mew. That effort alone seemed to tire him.

Marian bit her lower lip. Her face betrayed her alarm, as her heart froze in fear.

"Robin?" she gasped. She needed her strong husband to confirm that all would be well.

Robin was immediately at her side, staring into their baby's face. The worry on his own face confirmed Marian's worst fears.

"Ha!" Much declared. "You see, the good Lord has taken pity on you at last for sticking you with your wailing Grace, and has mercifully and wisely given you a quiet child this go round! I've always said, He always balances things out!"

"Shut up, Much," Will hissed, through clenched teeth.

A respectful knock on the open door announced Locksley's reeve, Thornton, who was eager to see the future Lord Locksley himself. "Excuse me, Master...milady. Father Hugh has arrived. Shall I show him up?"


	4. Chapter 4

Matilda was true to her word. She had indeed fetched a priest. Thornton ushered her, Father Hugh, and the priest's servant into Robin and Marian's bedchamber.

Matilda rushed past the stooped, grey headed priest and his servant boy to make her way straight to the babe in Marian's arms. A quick glance at his tiny face was enough to tell her she had been right to make haste. "See to it, Father," she instructed, her eyes devoid of their usual sparkle.

"Matilda? What's happening? Why are you here, Father? Lord Locksley will bring our son to church to be baptised come morning. Robin?" Marian's sense of panic grew when she spied tears spilling from her husband's eyes. "Robin? Robin!"

"He's not strong, my love." These were the only words Robin seemed able to force out.

"Then we'll help him be strong," Marian insisted.

Robin smiled through his tears. "We'll help him win this battle," he agreed, stroking little Richard's head, his own strength renewed by Marian's love. "Together we're stronger. The three of us."

"The five of us," she corrected.

Marian could hear Much begin to cry. "No," she thought, clutching her baby more tightly to her breast. "Don't cry, Much. Please, please don't cry."

Father Hugh's somber voice was asking in Latin, "Is the child a boy, or girl?" He had officially begun the baptism.

"He is a boy," Robin answered, his voice strong and proud.

Much sobbed louder, and tears fell into Little John's beard. The priest would not be here if the baby was expected to live, and everyone in the room understood it.

"What name is given to this child?"

Robin looked lovingly to his wife. "You are sure?" he asked. She had been against his choice of "Richard" until tonight. Marian nodded her assent and choked back a sob as the priest lifted baby Richard from her arms.

The priest blessed Richard, then took a salt pellet from a silver bowl his servant had brought with them.

"No salt," Robin commanded.

"He must be given salt." Father Hugh was insistent. "Filling the mouth with salt demostrates the beginning of wisdom."

"It would be wise for you to do as I say," Robin replied coldly. "He is my child, and this is my house. No salt."

"How is the child to gain wisdom without salt?"

"Let's just leave that to his Heavenly Father, shall we?" Robin asked. "Isn't that what you always preach?"

"Very well," the priest agreed. "But this is most irregular."

Holding the baby aloft and sprinkling him with holy water, he continued the service in Latin. "Richard of Lockley, I exorcise any and all demons seeking to possess your soul. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

He handed Richard into Robin's grateful arms and instructed the father to undress the babe, while he prepared the baptismal font. His servant had brought a small one, along with several large vials containing holy water.

This being his third child, Robin was swift to remove the baby's blanket and clothing. His eyes grew wide in alarm when he saw how ghostly white...almost blue...the baby's hands and feet were. "Be quick, Father," he ordered. "Marian, where's the christening gown?"

Marian couldn't take her eyes off the tiny body of their child. He looked so perfect, despite his small size and the odd coloring of his extremities. "He's cold," she told the priest. "Don't plunge him into that water. Don't!" But Father Hugh ignored her as he anointed her baby's head with oil.

"By the powers invested in me by their most holy reverences, Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, Hubert Walter, Archbishop of Canterbury, and His Holiness, Pope Innocent III, I baptise you, Richard of Locksley, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost." Father Hugh immersed and then raised the infant from the font. Richard did not cry. He barely made a sound...just a soft, low moan which broke his parents' hearts. Lifting the baby's naked dripping body above their heads, the priest called for the christening gown.

"Marian," Robin asked again, "the gown! Where is it?"

"Give me my baby," she begged the priest.

Much ran to a wooden chest, lifted its lid, and searched through its contents until he pulled out a lovely linen baby gown, superbly decorated with seed pearls. "Here it is, Robin!" he cried proudly, tears still streaming down his cheeks, but glad to be of assistance.

Robin took his baby and the gown, and gently handed both to Marian. Her eyes spoke immense thanks to him. He sat beside her on their bed, and together, they tenderly dressed their son.

"His little hands and feet! Do you see, Robin?"

"I'm hoping the plunge in cold water helped his heart."

"Is that why you let him do it?" she asked.

Robin couldn't answer. How could he admit to his wife he didn't know what to do?

It was rare indeed that Robin felt so helpless. He was a natural born leader, with endless energy, ideas and resolve. The only times his men had seen him thus were the two times he thought he'd lost Marian. But his wife had never witnessed him so vulernable before. It frightened her.

Father Hugh, unperturbed, efficiently continued the service. "Where are the godparents?" he asked.

Much stepped forward. "My wife's not here. She would be here, if this were tomorrow, in the church, the way it's supposed to be, instead of here, in Locksley Manor, in the middle of the night. She's very reliable, Eve is. And beautiful, too. I'm a lucky man."

"Shut up!" Allan demanded. He hated the priest with his salt, his oil, and his frigidly cold bath. Why make the little lad suffer so, if these were his last moments on earth?

"Are you familiar with your Pater Noster, your Credo, your Ave Maria?" the priest asked Much.

"That's alright, Father," Much replied helpfully. "I realize, when a body gets as old as you are, you can sometimes forget things. You asked me those same questions when you baptised Robin's daughters, remember? Twice before! Now, if you'll cast your mind back, feeble as it is at your advanced age, you'll remember I answered 'Yes,' both times, though, I have to confess, the first time I lied. I didn't know them very well then. But what could I do? I really wanted to be Ellen's godfather. In fact, I really, really, really wanted to be her godfather. And I think I'm a good one! I've since learned them all, by heart! Of course, I don't know what they mean, but I can say all the words!"

"That will be enough, my Son," the priest silenced Much's nervous chatter. "You must clothe the infant in the christening gown."

Much turned to Robin and Marian. "Uhh," he uttered, mouth agape. "He said I'm supposed to dress him."

"We've already done it," Marian said from the bed.

"Hand him the child," the priest instructed. But no one, unless it was Robin, was going to take her baby from Marian's arms again tonight.

Father Hugh shook his head. He was used to Robin and Marian of Locksley behaving in unorthodox ways. He knew their good and decent hearts, however, and trusted they were right with God. "Very well, once the godfather professes his faith, the ceremony will conclude."

"I profess it!" Much cried.

Father Hugh cleared his throat. "Very well," he said, shaking his head at Much. "This marks the beginning of justification for Richard of Locksley, being made righteous by the grace of God and our Lord Jesus Christ, internally renovated and sanctified by His holy name. World without end, amen."

"Amen," echoed all in the room, except for a scowling Allan and the baby Richard, whose pale blue cast and weakened breathing terrified his desperate parents.

"I need you to pray for our son's life, Father!" Robin cried, as the baby fought his battle.

World without end, indeed. Robin and Marian felt their world was hurtling to an end.


	5. Chapter 5

All through the night, after everyone but their servants had left Locksley Manor, Robin and Marian took turns cradling their son in their arms. Neither one slept, for they were determined to help Richard survive the night. Nor did they want to miss a single moment of the precious time they had with him. They were determined their baby should feel their love for him.

"I want him to know he's loved," Marian told Robin sadly. "I need him to know how much we care."

And so, they showed him the best way they knew how, by tenderly holding, rocking, and caressing him, as they spoke or sang to him softly.

While Robin thought she slept, Marian overheard him tell their son about their girls, and she couldn't help smiling through her tears at his loving and lively descriptions. She heard him speak of the his boyhood, his parents, his lofty heritage, King Richard, his days as a Crusader, his days as an outlaw, but mostly, she heard him talk about herself. Her heart swelled with pride at his words.

"Your mother is the loveliest, bravest, most stubborn and remarkable woman in the world. I know, because I've been all over the world, and I've never met another like her. You just keep hanging on, and you'll see. She hasn't smiled much tonight, but that's because she loves you so much. But when she does, you'll see her eyes sparkle like stars. And don't go and tell her, but I'm a sucker for her dimples. She's brave as a lion, like I said. She valiantly stood up for justice when everyone else was too frightened. She's a fighter, and so am I, so it stands to reason you must be, too. You keep fighting for us, son. We're counting on you. Keep fighting. Make your beautiful mother smile and show you her dimples."

As hours stretched by and Richard neither cried nor ate, Marian lost hope. She was exhausted from her long and difficult labor, from lack of sleep, but mostly from worry. Tears wet her lashes, as she poured out her guilt to her husband.

"It's my fault," she cried. "I went riding, even after I knew I shouldn't. I knew better, but I still went riding! I did this to him, Robin!"

"Shh! You didn't, my love. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. We don't understand why he was made this way, but he's ours to cherish on earth for as long as he's here."

It wasn't long...not nearly long enough. Just before dawn, while Marian held him, his little body gave a shudder as he lost his battle and passed into the next world.

"Robin!" she cried. Her husband wrapped his arms around both of them and wept silent tears with his wife.

...

Baby Richard was buried in a tiny coffin Will Scarlet had made for him, on the hilltop beside the graves of Robin's ancestors.

Ellen and Grace were glad to be back under their own roof again, and played happily together. They had been told their baby brother had been born and had already gone to Heaven, but it didn't bother them, other than they could sense their parents were unusually sad.

Robin and Marian were alike in that, after their initial burst of grief, each tried to hide their sorrow. Robin stayed busy in Locksley and the surrounding villages under his care, but rarely smiled. He seemed weary and spent a great deal of time alone. Marian's grief came out in frustration and impatience at not being completely physically well. She got up too soon and tried to do too much, then snapped at Robin whenever he cautioned her to take it easy. She felt sorry afterwards for her spiteful words, but couldn't bring herself to apologize to him.

At night, though, when the darkness hid their red rimmed eyes, they would cling tightly to each other in their bed, and draw comfort from their deep, abiding, unspoken love.

Time heals all wounds, and eventually Marian found she could make it through the day without perpetually grieving, or feeling guilty. She began to experience joy in small things again, and even found she could think about their son with joy, remembering how she and Robin had loved him. Robin's grin slowly returned, and he, too, began to recover his joy for living and his vitality.

One day, when the family was returning from a trip to Nottingham, they spied a young woman and a tall darkheaded boy standing in the yard outside their home, apparently waiting for them to arrive.

Stable boys ran out to grab their reins, and Robin leaped down from his saddle, then lifted Ellen from his horse.

"Welcome," he called, gracious and friendly, lifting Grace from Marian's horse, so Marian could also dismount. "I am Robin of Locksley, and this is my family...Lady Locksley, Ellen and Grace. May we help you?"

The young mother curtsied. She was very pretty, and looked vaguely familiar. Her son stared sullenly at the ground, hiding his face.

"My Lord," the young woman said, "forgive me for bothering you. We've nowhere else to go, and I've heard you never turn away a person in need. You helped me once before, and I'm begging you to do so again! We're hard workers, if you can see fit to put us to work. You won't be sorry, I promise you, My Lord!"

Robin and Marian exchanged glances. "What is your name?" Robin asked kindly.

"Annie," she answered, and Robin remembered the kitchen girl his gang had rescued from Gisbourne. That must mean the boy was...what was his name again? That's right...Seth!

Robin's face lit up, recalling only the infant he had saved, and not the boy's father. "You must be Seth!" he cried. "Remember the baby my gang found in the forest, Marian?"

"I thought you worked for Lady Glasson," Marian remarked. "Is that not so?"

"It was, milady, and I thank you for securing that position for me. But Her Ladyship offended King John somehow, and His Majesty seized her lands. My boy and I have been wandering for months, trying to find a place, but times are hard."

"And where is Lady Glasson?" Robin asked, anger towards the injustices committed by his king boiling inside him. King John, losing more and more of England's holdings to Philip Augustus of France, seemed to be trying to make up for his loss of lands within his Angevin Empire by unlawfully seizing his English nobles' lands and holdings, claiming them for himself. He had never gotten over his shame at being called "Lackland."

"She entered a convent, My Lord. She is well, or so I hear."

"Come inside," Robin invited. "I'm sure we can help you." His little girls trotted ahead, and he and Marian followed, holding hands.

Once inside, he called for Locksley's reeve, Thornton. "Get them something to eat and drink, and prepare a place for them to rest."

"Yes, Master," Thornton agreed.

As Annie entered the hall, she looked all about her. To her, this was the home of her son's father, even though it had really belonged to Robin's family for generations. Time had healed her wounds as well, and she had forgotten Gisbourne's treachery. She chose to remember instead her romantic feelings for the man, and made up heroic stories about him to her son.

Robin couldn't stop staring at the boy. A swift pang shot through him as he realized he had not been able to save his own child, but had saved this one, the son of his enemy. Still, the boy had no control over who his father was. The child was innocent.

"So, Seth," Robin smiled, "you may not realize, but we met when you were no more than two weeks old. Ever hear of 'Robin Hood?' Well, that's who I was at the time, and for a short time, you were a member of my gang!"

Seth lifted his face from the ground at last, his steely cold gaze meeting Robin's friendly eyes. Robin froze at the sight, but Marian gasped when she saw the boy's face.

He was so like Guy of Gisbourne that her heart froze in fear.

Marian looked quickly from Seth, to Robin, to Annie. Robin had never told her who the baby's father was, other than correcting her mistaken impression that he had been the father. Her eyes opened wide now, recognizing the near duplicate of the face she knew so well.

It wasn't only the features that were familiar. The expression, lofty and baneful, sent shivers through her. The boy Seth seemed consumed by hatred for all he saw in Locksley.


	6. Chapter 6

Annie was busy kneading dough for bread in the kitchen at Locklsey Manor, while her son Seth sat sulking on a bench.

Brushing back a stray wisp of hair from her face with her wrist, Annie gazed fondly at Seth and asked, "Are you comfortable, dear? Do you need anything?"

"Leave me be."

Annie worked silently for a time, while her son continued to brood. After awhile, she asked, "How do you like it here, Seth? Are you happy?"

"Shut up."

Annie concealed her hurt. Seth was only eight years old, but she had taught him to believe he was better than she. Her stories about his father's lineage impressed him deeply. So did the taunts of "bastard" he had heard all his life from other children. He resented his mother for having been his father's "whore," and blamed her for his lowly status and the mockery he suffered, when he ought to be a lord.

Annie tried once again to reach him. "You know, Seth, by rights, this house and village, and who knows how much of the surrounding lands, ought to belong to you. It was all your father's when I knew him. You should be the one people bow their heads to...not those little girls."

Seth glared at his mother. She was right! It should be his! But what did he have here? Nothing! Because of his mother, he was nothing but a servant! In his own father's house!

Annie finished kneading the dough, and invited Seth to accompany her to a large outdoor oven. As they crossed the yard, they saw the Lady of the Manor playing chase with her two small girls.

Annie ignored them and kept walking, but Seth stopped to watch, his face displaying his scorn for them.

Marian scooped up a squealing Grace in her arms, and laughingly collapsed to the ground. Ellen immediately climbed on top of them. The tiny girls were giggling hard.

"Would you like to play, too?"

Seth stiffened when he heard the Lord of the Manor's voice directly behind him. He spun quickly around to glare at Lord Locksley.

Locklsey carried his bow and wore his quiver on his back. Beside him stood Lord Bonchurch, complete with bow and his small son, Tweeks.

"No, I wouldn't," Seth answered scornfully.

"I wanna play," Tweeks said.

"Go then!" Much encouraged. "Play! With them!" He leaned in and whispered to Robin, "That was easy! I was afraid he was going to cry when I told him he couldn't come with us."

Robin grinned. "But there's no reason why Seth shouldn't come!" Looking directly into the boy's scowling face, he asked, "How would you like to come with us? We're hunting wild boar."

Seth eyed them suspiciously. "Just you two?"

"Just us three, if you'd like. Go ask your mother if she'd mind. And ask Thornton to find you a bow. Let's see how good a shot you are."

Seth wanted to go. He wanted to accompany these lords, rather than stay at the manor with the women and the servants.

"I'll come," he said, and ran to order the reeve to string a bow for him.

"Robin!" Much objected. "Why did you ask him? He'll ruin everything with his snide...his snide..."

Robin shrugged a shoulder. "He's bored."

"He's supposed to be working for you! Why isn't he working?"

"He's just a lad."

"Gisbourne's 'lad,' " Much reminded his friend.

"He can't help who his father was."

"Well, maybe not, but he doesn't need to act like him! Have you seen his sneer, Robin? Have you? It's...it's uncanny! Unbelievable! He makes me feel all nervous, like I need to hide my face under a hood again, and skulk in shadows! I wouldn't be surprised if one day, he didn't come striding along with a miniature Vaisey by his side!"

"That will never happen!" Robin snickered.

Much began to smile as well. "Imagine...a ten year old Vaisey...ugly...bearded...and bald!"

"All dressed in black...with a merlin hawk on his wrist!" Robin and Much began laughing so hard, Marian noticed and ran to them.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Vaisey siring a son," Robin answered.

Marian couldn't see the humor. Instead, she took Robin aside to for a private goodbye. Much sighed and waited patiently. He was used to it, after so many years.

"Promise you'll return by sunset," Marian said, her fingers playing with the laces on his shirt.

"You have my word." He smiled adoringly at her, breathing in the fresh scent of her hair.

"You won't be late?"

Not when you're here waiting for me, he thought. "When have I ever been late?"

She sighed. More times than she cared to count. You'd think a man who'd served as Captain of the late King's Private Guard in the Crusade could tell when the sun was about to set! "Kiss me goodbye then."

Robin was more than happy to oblige. Their lingering kiss turned into two, but they stopped when they heard Much cry out, "Stop! Put that down! Don't shoot!"

They turned to see Seth sneering a smile, an arrow in his borrowed bow aimed directly at Much's son Tweeks.


	7. Chapter 7

Robin and Much were close on the tracks of a wild boar in Sherwood Forest. Seth was accompaning them on their hunt, but he was purposely lagging far behind, barely within sight. Not because he was tired, or slow, but because he resented them. He resented them for cautioning him to stay close, but mostly he resented their friendliness. It was easy for them to be friendly, he felt...they had everything, and he nothing!

Suddenly, a high pitched squeal pierced his ears, and he froze in terror at the sight of a huge boar bursting through foliage and rushing directly towards him. Stiff hair bristled on its back...sharp tusks aimed straight for his gut! Shaking violently, Seth lifted his bow, but his arrow dropped to the ground before he could release it. There wasn't time to cock another...there wasn't time even to run. He shut his eyes tightly and prepared to be gored.

But he wasn't. He heard the unmistakable whoosh of an arrow, a squeal that was almost a scream, and a heavy thud. He fearfully opened his eyes to see the dead boar resting less than a foot from him. He could feel its body heat. He could smell its blood. An arrow with striped fletching lodged in its back, having pierced its heart from behind, killing it instantly.

The two lords were by his side now.

"Are you alright?" Lord Locksley asked, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

Seth could only nod.

"It's lucky for you, you had Robin Hood here to protect you!" Bonchurch crowed.

"There is no Robin Hood," Seth scowled. "It's only stories."

"You have just insulted your rescuers, young sullen face, I think you'll find," Much told him. "We saved you...twice in your young life already. And when I say 'We,' I mean 'We.' 'We are Robin Hood!' "

"Come on, Much," Robin interrupted. "We've caught our boar. Let's go home."

The boy had suffered a scare and needed comfort. Not only that, but the sun was beginning to set, and he'd promised Marian he wouldn't be late...again.

...

Hours later, Marian pulled a brush vigorously through her hair over and over again. Night had fallen, and she was preparing for bed...delaying going to bed actually.

She purposefully kept her back to their bed, averting her eyes from the not to be missed half naked form of her husband, who lay propped up on elbows, watching and patiently waiting for her to join him. Fully naked, if truth be told, once the blanket pulled past his waist was removed.

Normally, Marian wouldn't care a whit about the condition of her hair when Robin awaited her like this. And she didn't care tonight. She was merely stalling. Something was holding her back from joining him in the marriage bed...something weighing heavily on her mind she needed to discuss before she could crawl in beside him. But how to begin?

He began for her, as she hoped he might. Surprisingly, he didn't say anything cheeky about her taking so long to brush her hair. Ever since they had lost baby Richard, he avoided cheekiness when she appeared upset, opting instead for respectful concern.

"Come to bed, my love," he said, simply and directly. "I want you."

The heat in his voice sent a warm rush of desire through her, but she pushed it down. She put the brush down as well and faced him, glad he had stated his honest feelings. Tonight was a night for honesty, not for love making.

"Robin," she began seriously, "We need to talk first."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her an inquisitive grin. "Well then, come talk over here. I swear I'll listen, and even answer you back, if you'd like. I just want to hold you, Marian. Come here."

His need of her drew a satisfied smile, and she sighed happily as she climbed into bed. He drew her close and held her tenderly against his chest.

"Now, what's so serious you'd rather brush your hair than talk to me?" he asked, brushing the top of her hair himself with his lips.

"It's about Seth."

His lips stopped kissing. He had not expected that.

"Seth? What about him?"

"Robin," she began slowly, "I think you're spending too much time with him. I find it odd you took him with you hunting today...odder still you invited him to eat with us at our table tonight, and arranged to teach him to shoot tomorrow. I think..." She drew a deep breath before spilling out her next words in a rush. "I think you're trying to substitute him for our son...for our Richard."

"I think you're wrong," he stated firmly, his wound from losing their baby reopening.

"I think," Marian continued gently, "I believe you remember saving Seth when he was an infant, and you...like I said, you're confusing the two boys in your mind, wishing you could have saved..." Her voice trailed off at the sight of his hardened eyes.

"I haven't been neglecting you or the girls, have I?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's the problem?"

Marian tried to be gentle. "The problem, Robin, is Seth. I don't want him around our girls. I don't want him around me. He's...depressing. He may even be dangerous."

Robin stared at her grimly. "Because he's like his father? Because he is, in case you haven't noticed."

"I've noticed," she said, her voice rising. "And that's exactly why he needs to go."

He pulled away and uttered a scoffing laugh.

"What?" she asked.

"I should think you, of all people, would want Seth to stay."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Before he could answer, she continued. "I learned my lesson about Gisbourne, Robin. Later than I should have, but I learned it at last. He couldn't be saved...not by me, anyway. He made his own choices, and they were wrong ones."

His insecurities and jealousy toward Gisbourne, buried for so many years, came rushing back like a flood. "You should have learned that years ago, when you were busy scolding me for the mistakes I made. 'Everything is a choice,' you said. Then why did you let Gisbourne off the hook for the choices he made, Marian? Why did you excuse him for his violence and his treachery, over and over again? Just because he showed you a softer side, because he _wanted_ you, shouldn't have blinded you to his faults. But then, you know what they say...'Love is blind.' "

Marian stared at him in defiant disbelief. "I never loved Gisbourne, Robin. How dare you even imply that?" With a furious tug, she pulled the blanket off him, leaving him completely exposed. Clasping it to her chest, she lay down and rolled over onto her side, turning away from him.

"Go find someplace else to sleep tonight," she commanded. "And put on some clothes, for once. No one wants to look at you like that."

"This is my bed, Lady Locksley," he reminded her coldly. "You are here by my permission."

She whipped back around, meaning to say something cutting. But the moment their eyes met, they both melted.

"Robin," she cried softly, "what are we doing?"

"I did not mean that," he confessed sadly. "None of what I said." He took the blanket from her and tossed it aside, then wrapped her in his arms.

She snuggled against him as closely as possible, but continued to hold her ground. "All the same, Seth has to go, Robin. You saved his life...twice. There's nothing more you can do for him."

"He's a boy, Marian," he insisted, stroking her hair. "He can change. Gisbourne was...Gisbourne was grown...capable of making his own choices. But Seth's a child! Let's help him, Marian. Trust me, this has nothing to do with our lost child."

"Robin, have you forgotten it was Gisbourne who killed our first baby, the one I was carrying when he stabbed me? Have you forgotten how he might have killed Ellen, kidnapping her and locking her in a chest?"

"Seth is not Gisbourne, Marian, but he might grow up to be like him, if no one intervenes. Trust me on this. Help me to save him."

Marian bit her lower lip. This seemed all wrong. Their roles from the past had been reversed.

Robin's eyes were so clear, his purpose so defined. Fighting against her inner voice warning her it couldn't be done, that it would only bring trouble, she told her husband she would help him.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun had already begun its pathway through the sky when Marian awoke the following morning, feeling perfectly refreshed and content from last night's sleep. Sleep, and so much more, had dramatically lifted her spirits.

Last night's argument over Seth and, ridiculously Gisbourne, had been quickly resolved, and she and Robin had thoroughly enjoyed mending any hurts their quarrel may have inflicted by outpouring the intense love and passion they felt towards one another.

Marian stretched, feeling luxuriant in the soft comfortable bed, then wiggled delightedly under the blanket as a slow smile crept across her face, remembering. Her eyes sparkled as she quietly sang a snatch of song, a new song about the bold outlaw, Robin Hood.

"Oh, the minstrels don't know the half of it!" she giggled to herself.

Robin, of course, was already up. Possessing boundless energy, he could survive...no, make that thrive, on very little sleep. She knew she needed to arise as well, but something caught her eye first and stopped her.

Resting on Robin's pillow lay three sprigs of white lilacs, neatly tied together by a green ribbon, left especially by him for her.

She drew a pleasantly surprised breath, picked them up and buried her nose in their fragrance. Could life be any sweeter?

Hearing their children's voices in the yard, she jumped out of bed, donned her robe, and looked out a window to see what they were up to so early.

Robin was with them, cheerfully setting up targets. His manservant Thomas stood respectfully by, holding his master's Saracen bow and a quiver of arrows of various sizes. Ellen and Grace danced about their father, chattering happily, while their nurse Mattie grumbled under her breath about the dew on the grass ruining their slippers. Annie and Seth stood by as well. Seth ignored his mother and wore his usual sullen face, as he held a small bow and glared fiercely at the two little girls.

Marian, from her lookout high above their heads, was the first to notice a rider approaching...make that two riders, mounted on a single horse.

"Robin!" she cried down excitedly.

He looked up, smiling radiantly at her. "Good morning, my love," he called back, over the childish cries of "Mama! Mama!" from their two girls. "About time you joined us," he teased. "What happened? Somebody keep you up late last night?"

"Grow up," she called down, blushing. "Robin, Allan's coming, with his son."

"Allan?" Robin smiled brightly and approached Seth. "You're in luck! There's a boy on his way here, just about your age."

Seth sneered in reply.

Marian left the window and began to dress. She couldn't wait to greet their approaching guests.

...

By the time Marian made her way to the yard, Allan had already arrived. He had obviously just said something amusing to Robin, who was looking down and laughing. Allan's son was enjoying the attentions of the little Locksley girls, each one holding tightly to one of his legs, making it difficult for him to walk. The children were all laughing as he tried to shake them free...all but Seth.

"Who would of thought," Allan was saying, after smiling at Marian once she had joined them, "that you two would be raisin' Giz's son? First mine...now Giz's! Not bein' funny, but ever worry about his aunt gettin' wind of this and showin' up here, causin' trouble?"

"What?" Robin asked in ironic amazement. "Isabella doing her duty? Taking care of family?" He laughed scoffingly. "I don't think so."

"No one knows where she is anyway," Marian added, "since the King replaced her with his new wife. Or do you know something we don't?"

Allan shook his head. "Not bein' funny, but she's gone. No one's heard of her in months."

"Good," Robin said. "At least King John did something we can thank him for. Come now and meet Seth."

As Robin strode toward the boy, Allan grabbed Marian's arm. "What's he doin', Marian? That kid looks just like Giz, down to his sneer. Why'd Robin want a reminder of him here?"

"He wants to help him," she answered quietly.

Allan snorted, but followed along, sauntering toward the boy. He first turned and greeted Annie. He remembered the young mother well, having been moved years ago by her prettiness and her plight. He remembered finding her in the kitchens of the castle, being touched by her emotion when she took her baby's cap from him and held it to her nose. He remembered being furious and kicking Gisbourne for slapping her to the ground and trying to kill her. He remembered her staying with the gang in the forest until Marian had secured a position for her. He regretted he'd never really gotten to know her...Annie had been engrossed in her son then, and he and the rest of the gang had been dealing with Roy's death.

He felt he might enjoy getting to know her now. Once he'd come to grips with the fact that his feelings for Eve could never be realized, they had ebbed away, leaving nothing more than respect and admiration for a woman who could put up with living with Much day in and day out. And now that he was enjoying raising a son, the pampered pet of all the girls at the Trip, well, he thought it might be time to settle down, if he could only find the right woman. Then again, did he really want to give up his fun and freedom?

Annie's pretty brown eyes looked guarded. She remembered Allan as well, and the sight of him brought back memories she didn't want to face. His unforgetable blue eyes forced her to recall Gisbourne's treachery. No! She couldn't have loved a man so evil he would have left his own son alone in the woods to die! It must have been a huge misunderstanding! He had been a good man underneath, forced by the Sheriff to carry out horrible deeds. Hadn't he been? Hadn't he?

Their private thoughts were interrupted by the sound of children's voices shouting. Young Allan and Seth appeared to have met, and the result didn't look promising. They looked as if they were preparing for battle.


	9. Chapter 9

"Whoa! Whoa there, lads! There's no need to come to blows! Tell me what's wrong."

Allan was surprised Robin had stopped the fight between his son Allan and Giz's son Seth. "Do as I say...not as I do?" he whispered to Marian.

"That's right," she said, rolling her eyes, but smiling.

Young Allan, red faced with anger, spoke up. "He called me a 'baby whoreson bastard!' He laughed at me for playin' with the girls, and called Ellen a 'freckled face whore,' and Gracie a 'bald headed whore!' "

Stunned silence fell over the yard.

Annie's voice broke the silence at last. "Seth!" she cried, embarrassed by her son. "Apologize to these good people! Those are terrible words you said!"

She was sure they would lose their position in this wonderful household. Where would they go now? And where had Seth learned such foul language?

She dropped to her knees before Lord and Lady Locksley. "My Lord, milady...I am so sorry for what my son said! He didn't mean it! I don't think he knew what he was saying!"

"Gracie has beautiful hair, haven't you, dear?" An indignant Marian picked up her baby and stroked her fingertips over the peachfuzz that just wouldn't seem to grow. Taking her older daughter's small hand, she continued, "And Ellie has the loveliest milk and roses complexion, don't you, precious?"

Robin addressed Annie calmly. "Children repeat things they hear. It's time to correct his tongue, however. Would you mind if I had a word with him?"

Still kneeling and ashamed, she gave her consent.

"What's 'whoreson bastard' mean, Mama?" sharp little Ellen hadn't missed a word.

"Naughty words we don't say," Marian told her.

After Robin took Seth off for a walk, young Allan and the girls resumed their playing, as if nothing had happened. Marian went inside the Manor to break her fast and see to her household duties. Mattie rested her feet by sitting on a bench in the shade and quicky dropped off to sleep, and Thomas went inside to mend some of his master's clothing. Allan figured now would be as good a time as any to get to know Annie better.

Smiling his devil-may-care charming grin, he approached her.

"Don't worry," he began, "my son's heard worse. He's said worse! He had some tongue on him when we first met. I'm Allan a Dale, by the way. We've met before."

Annie turned lovely sad eyes on him. "I remember you," she sighed. "You don't think the master's going to beat him, do you?"

Allan laughed. "Robin? Not him. Not bein' funny, he'll just listen, and try to talk some sense into him. He doesn't take to strikin' children. But, if you don't mind me sayin', would it really be so bad if your son's backside met the palm of his hand for what he said?"

"I don't know what to do!" Annie sighed. "I love him so much, but I'm not doing right by him! I want him to have what he deserves, but he resents me."

Allan invited her to sit on a bench under a blossoming chestnut tree. Sitting beside her, he admitted, "It's tough, bein' a parent. Tough, but fun! I just got my lad a few months back. Clever boy...loads of fun! But it's hard, like I said! I gotta watch what I say and do around him. I gotta make sure he eats well, and goes to bed when he should. I gotta make sure he's safe, and answer all his questions, when I don't know half the answers. But you know what the hardest part is?"

Annie shook her head.

"Scoldin' him when he does wrong. I work at the Trip, and early on, I caught him pickin' the pocket of one of my customers. I used to be a pick pocket myself, but what did I do? I turned him over my knee and spanked him. Not hard...just enough so he'd know I meant it. It was awful. I used to get beaten as a kid...I never wanted kids myself because of it. But here I was...not because I was mad, but because I figured it was the only way he'd learn. But I hated myself for hurtin' him."

"It sounds like you did the right thing," Annie said.

"He's never picked another pocket!"

Annie sighed. "It's easy to know what to do, when it isn't your child. I've never spanked Seth. He never knew his father, and I've felt so bad about that. I suppose he needed a spanking along the way, but now, it's just too late."

"Naw," Allan disagreed, "it's never too late." He smiled at her. "You don't impress me as the spankin' kind, though. More like the gentle, lovin', understandin' kind of mum. Seth's a lucky kid."

Annie smiled back. "I wish he knew that."

"Maybe somebody should tell him."

Annie felt herself blushing. Allan's eyes were so blue, and so friendly, and there was such an air of masculine charm about him, with just a hint of danger that strongly attracted her. She hadn't felt this way since...but she didn't want to think about Him.

"I better get back to work," she said, excusing herself.

"Thanks for the talk," he said, rising from the bench. "I'm gonna hang around here a bit. Lady Locksley kind of likes me," he joked. "Think I might stay for dinner...try some of your cooking."

Annie blushed again. "Goodbye," she smiled.

After she'd gone, Allan sat back down and smiled to himself. This was turning into a very interesting day!


	10. Chapter 10

Robin purposely shortened his strides to allow Seth to keep pace with him. Together, they walked in silence over the meadows of Locksley, heading toward a hill.

Robin carried his bow with him. His face was calm, as he wondered how he could best reach the sullen, angry child being forced to accompany him. They stopped when they reached the top of the hill.

"This was once one of my favorite spots in all of England," Robin confessed happily. "My best friend Much and I used to sit up here and dream out loud. There's a great view of my village...do you see it?"

Seth scowled. Wasn't it his father's village...not Lord Locksley's? It would be, anyway...if his father were still alive.

Robin continued smiling at the boy, in spite of the cold reception he was receiving. "Care to try my bow? That is, if you can choose a suitable target."

Seth spoke at last. "Swords are better. I want to try your sword."

Robin's smile widened to a grin. "Now, you see," he explained, "that is exactly why I thought you and young Allan might get along! I tried teaching him to shoot once, and, just like you, all he wanted was a sword." Robin unsheathed his, causing Seth to draw back in fear.

Tactfully, Robin ignored the boy's alarm, concentrating instead on his scimitar, as he held it by its hilt and pivoted its blade. "But this weapon of mine failed to satisfy him! Allan insisted on a broadsword, even though the only thing they're good for is stabbing. This weapon can both stab and slice."

Robin knew he had Seth's attention. "Here," he said, handing him the elegant sword, "why don't you have a go?"

Seth's eyes grew wide. He thought Lord Locksley had brought him up here to give him a lecture! Instead, he had handed him his sword!

"What should I slice?" he asked.

Robin laughed. "It's not so very different from what your mother does all day, now is it? Chopping up turnips and carrots and such. But here, just slice the air for now. Let me watch, and then I'll show you what King Richard himself taught me."

Seth enjoyed pretending he was killing people with the exotic blade. He waved the sword, and jabbed it through the air, as if he were stabbing some invisible enemy.

"Not bad!" Robin approved. "Let me give you a few pointers, and I'll let you try again."

Seth proved an apt pupil. He listened carefully, and employed every tip Robin passed to him. They worked up quite a sweat. When Robin judged Seth had had enough, he returned his sword to its sheath and walked Seth to the other side of the hilltop.

Sitting together under an ancient spreading oak, Robin landed Seth his flask.

"Drink some water," he advised. "It came fresh from the well this morning."

Seth took a swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and handed the flask back to Robin. He was actually enjoying himself. His face relaxed as he gazed all around him.

Robin had led the boy here on purpose. This side of the hill contained the graveyard where Robin's ancestors, along with his new baby son Richard, were laid to rest. It was as quiet, peaceful, and beautiful as the other side of the hill, but Seth did not like it here.

"It's alright to be uncomfortable in the presence of death, Seth," Robin said gently. "Most people are. In fact, it's healthy. But I happen to like it here."

"Why? There's graves."

"Graves of my family, going back ten generations, though the oldest ones aren't marked. A few of them died peacefully, some not so much."

"What's that new, small grave there?" Seth asked.

Robin let out a heavy sigh. "That's Richard," he said simply.

"The King?"

"My son."

"Oh. Where's my father's grave?"

Robin couldn't answer. He had no idea where Gisbourne was buried. "I don't know for certain, but the rest of his family is buried in Yorkshire. That's where your family hails, Seth. There's a village called Gisbourne there."

Seth appeared confused. "But I thought Locksley belonged to my father!"

"Locksley has always been mine," Robin explained, trying to dismiss a pang of anger still lurking inside him. "Your father oversaw it for me when I was away at war." It wasn't completely the truth, but it would serve for now.

Seth pondered this. All of it was news to him.

Robin continued his lesson. "We all die one day," he mentioned thoughtfully. "One day, I'll be buried on this hilltop. If I'm lucky, I'll die here in Locksley, in my bed. But with such a violent world, that's not very likely to happen."

"You mean you think you'll get killed?"

Robin smiled dismissal. "No, I'm much too good for that! I'm only saying, the world is full of violent, selfish people. Our task, the way I see it, is to counter evil deeds with acts of kindness."

Seth didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. No man, especially not such an amazing man as Lord Locksley, had ever paid him positive attention before.

"Now, Seth," Robin continued, "a real man doesn't use nasty words in front of, or about women. Or little girls, for that matter. Those are my little girls, and you will not insult them, do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good. And Allan is a guest in my house. I don't want to hear you call him names, either. Did he say or do anything to you to warrant you calling him a name?"

Seth sighed, hanging his head in shame. "No, My Lord. I just didn't like him."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I'm glad he was polite! He used to have quite a tongue on him, too. But he's changed. He's always a welcome guest in my home." Robin passed his flask back to the child, allowing his words to sink in. Clamping a friendly hand on the boy's shoulder, he suggested, "Why don't we go back there and show him what you can do with my sword? After all, I didn't like him insulting it! Maybe when he sees you swinging it, he'll gain some respect for my Saracen blade!"

Seth's eyes shone. "I'll show him what a real man can do!" he said.

"Come on then!" Robin stood, and took the boy 's hand. Together, they walked back to the manor.


	11. Chapter 11

_Robin joyfully galloped his horse Achilles through the fields and meadows of Nottinghamshire. Spying a figure ahead of him on the road, he slowed Achilles to a canter and approached, trepidation somehow filling him. _

_"Stand aside and let me pass," he told the black clothed stranger._

_The stranger lifted his face to meet Robin's gaze. Wavy black hair framed a proud, handsome face. Cold steel-blue eyes, consumed with hatred, stared back at him. A beak-like nose, thin lips pressed in a sneer, and a strong chin completed the image. Robin was staring into the face of his enemy, Sir Guy of Gisbourne._

_"Let me pass, Gisbourne," Robin commanded._

_"No, Hood," Gisbourne hissed. "Not until we strike a deal."_

_"I don't deal with traitors."_

_"You already have, Hood. We already made an exchange, you and I."_

_"What exchange?"_

_"My son for yours. You raise mine, make him all warm and wooly, a peace lover like yourself, and I'll raise yours."_

_Gisbourne drew forth his sword, revealing the dead body of baby Richard stuck onto the end of his blade. Robin couldn't move. He was frozen in his saddle, helpless to reach out and pull his child's body from the end of Gisbourne's sword._

_"All your children, Hood. I'll have them all. Look, Ellen's locked in a chest! She can't breathe, Hood! She's crying for you, but she'll give up the fight soon and join me in Hell. I'm sapping the life from her as we speak, just as I did your son. And then there's Grace. What do you think I'll do to her, Hood? Your worst nightmares can't compare with what I have planned for her."_

_"This is a nightmare, Gisbourne. You're dead. You have no power over my children."_

_"Then what's this?" Gisbourne waved the dead body of the tiny baby over Robin's head. "I killed him, Hood. And I'll kill any other sons you sire. But go ahead...make the world a better place by 'helping' my son. It'll do you no good, Hood. You can't win, you know. There will always be cruelty in the world."_

_"You can't hurt my son, Gisbourne. He's safe with his Heavenly Father. And as for Seth, he's safe with me."_

"Robin? Robin, wake up!"

Marian called her husband's name, watching in distress as he thrashed about on their bed, his face twisted in agony. Another nightmare? It had been so long since his last one! She had hoped he was past them now!

Consciousness slowly returned to Robin, and he stared into Marian's eyes for a few moments, his breath coming hard and fast, before reaching out and enfolding her in his arms. Her silky body felt warm and comforting, the perfect shelter from all his tortured thoughts. He held onto her as if he never wanted to let her go.

"Robin, tell me," she said softly. "Was it Acre?"

"Not this time," he answered. "Just some flight of fancy. It doesn't matter. It was only a dream."

Her gentle hands stroked the hair on the nape of his neck, making him feel so much better.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he whispered.

"Don't be." Her lips sought his and they kissed tenderly. Tenderness turned to passion, and the presence of the nightmare was completely swept away in the warmth and delight of her love.

Afterwards, lying close in each other's arms, he quietly vowed, "We _can _make a difference, Marian."

She sighed happily, so proud of the man she loved. "It's our purpose, Robin...'The doing of all good deeds.' You've already made a difference in Seth's life. I saw the change in his face when you returned from your walk."

He squeezed her more tightly in his arms as they contentedly drifted off to sleep.

...

For some reason, Isabella could not sleep tonight. Pacing the confines of her sumptuous chamber in Kirklees Abbey, her soul strained at the prison of her own making.

There was rumor the King was travelling north from London. By now he had surely tired of his spoiled young bride. Would there be any chance of a reconciliation? They had reconciled once before, after all. If she could only see him on his stop in Nottingham, she was sure she could convince him to be "friends" again.

She continued pacing, plotting her scheme to propel herself back into power and royal favor.


	12. Chapter 12

Robin was hosting one of his big feasts at Locksley. Food and drink flowed freely, and the entire village was pleased their young lord and lady had sufficiently recovered from the loss of their baby's death to once more host a feast.

Little John had fallen asleep sitting on a bench, his broad back against a tree. Children gathered around his massive form, stifling giggles, as young Allan threw acorns at the sleeping giant, aiming for his wide open mouth.

"Missed!" he whispered, as the first acorn fell over the tremendous left shoulder. "Again!" he whispered, as the second acorn disappeared into John's heavy beard.

"Got it!" he cried at last, and the other children cheered, waking Little John from his slumber.

Little John spat out the acorn, rose to his feet, and immediately guessed who the culprit was. "Come on, then!" John cried, chasing the fleeing Allan. The big man wasn't angry...he adored children, especially the children of his well beloved friends. They were family to him.

John's long strides helped him catch the naughty boy in no time. Bellowing, he seized Allan, turned him upside down, and threatened to dunk him into Locksley Pond. Robin came running to the lad's rescue.

"Put him down, John," Robin called, good naturedly. "No one's getting wet tonight!"

"Aw, go ahead and dunk him," Allan a Dale laughed. "He has it comin'. Besides, gents are wagering ten to one Tweeks'll fall into the pond before the evening's over."

Allan joined Will and Djaq, admiring again their peaceful family and the astounding beauty of their twins.

"So, Allan," Will began casually, "where's Annie tonight?"

Djaq shot her husband a look. It wasn't like him to pry, or even tease. Will must be as hopeful the new pairing would work out as she was.

"Around here somewhere," Allan smiled. "What? We're takin' it slow."

That statement alone told Will and Djaq their friend may be "hooked" at last.

Seth was just beginning to learn how to play with the other children. He adored Robin and followed him almost as closely as Much, completely devoted to the former outlaw.

"Who'd of thought it," Allan said to Djaq. "Giz's kid as Robin's little shadow! Not bein' funny, but life is funny!"

"I am not surprised," Djaq argued calmly. "I think it gives Robin some degree of peace. Believing in forgiveness, as his faith preaches, he struggled when he could not forgive Gisbourne. Now that Gisbourne is dead, Robin can rest easily, knowing he is helping the boy."

"How come you know more about my faith than I do?" Allan asked.

"My wife is smarter than you," Will joked.

"Not bein' funny, but she's even smarter than you!"

At that moment, Annie walked over to them. Excusing himself, Allan took her hand and walked slowly away with her to look at the stars. Will and Djaq simply smiled. "Life is funny," Djaq echoed.

...

Across the yard, Kate was not sowing calmness. Or charity. Or forgiveness. She was bothering Marian, as usual.

"This ale is good!" Kate declared. Turning to Marian, she remarked tartly, "You look fat. When are you going to lose the fat you gained from your baby?"

Marian couldn't speak. She had regained her figure since her last pregnancy, and Kate was just being tactless and cruel. Usually adept at deflecting Kate's snide remarks, this one left her feeling helpless and hurt. She walked away, and sought solace in the stables.

Alone with her horses, she buried her face in Llamrei's mane and fought back tears. The mare was herself a new mother, having birthed a foal a few weeks prior. Marian spoke quietly to her horse now.

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," she quoted. "But why? Why give and then take away so soon?"

Looking up, she met her husband's kind, loving gaze.

"I can ask Little John to throw Kate in the pond," he volunteered, partially joking.

"Yes," she answered truthfully. "But no." After uttering a small, shuddering sigh, she asked, "How did you know where to find me?"

Robin came closer and took her tenderly in his arms. "I always know where all three of my girls are, even when they think I'm not minding them."

Marian smiled gently, her cheek against his shoulder. "Where's Ellen, then? And Grace?"

"Playing chase at the base of the hill."

"I'd like to join them, I think, if they're indeed there."

They shared a deep, loving kiss, then stepped from the stables, just in time to see Tweeks take a spill into the pond. Robin ran and dove in, fishing him out before almost anyone else had a chance to react. Much and Eve were extremely grateful.

The sight of distant dust flouring the air warned them someone was coming...someone with a large party of riders.

"No," Much moaned to Robin, "it can't be! No! Not tonight! Not the King!"

"Looks like it. Trust King John not to miss a party. Ready yourselves. We never know what news John will bring, but we can count on it not being good."


	13. Chapter 13

"A party? How splendid! How splendid of you to throw a party in our honor! However did you know we were coming, Locksley?"

King John minced before Robin and his guests beside the pond in Locksley village. After emitting a satisfied chortle, his face hardened into scorn as he faced the young Earl of Huntington. "Oh, go dry yourself, will you? You're dripping wet! Did nobody ever tell you it's rude to drip before your Sovereign?"

Just then, Gracie came toddling up. King John gasped in awe.

"Oh, look!" he cried delightedly. "A child! See how the little children adore me! Quick, someone, quick! Hand her to me, so that I may bless her with my royal hands!"

Grace's nurse Mattie handed the little girl to the King.

"I have poopy pants," Grace announced.

The King froze in horror, as his royal nose affirmed her statement. Robin dove and caught her, just before her tiny body hit the ground.

"Now, Gracie," Marian whispered in all seriousness, "remember to tell Mattie, or me, or Daddy whenever you feel the poo poo coming. That way, we can sit you on the chamberpot, and you can try to do it there. You can do it, Gracie! You're a big girl, just like Ellen!"

Robin handed his daughter to Mattie. He was a nearly perfect "Daddy" who had changed his fair share of dirty nappies, but he wasn't about to do it tonight and risk King John's mockery, when he was paying Mattie excellent wages to do it for him.

Now that the offending odor had been removed, King John leered at Marian.

"Meriam, my dear, you are looking lovely as ever! We heard about your loss, my dear. Such a shame. But never fear! If you want a son so badly, all you have to do is ask! We will be more than happy to do the honors and beget one in your luscious loins." He indicated Robin, who had begun staring at him with danger in his eyes. "It's evident you'll never get a son by _him_."

Again, John laughed his self satisfied laugh. "Quick! Someone, remind me again how many children I've fathered!"

"A dozen or so, Your Majesty," someone in the crowd volunteered.

"That's right! A dozen bastards, and nine of them boys! So, you see, Meriam, your King is more than able to fulfill your every desire!" Holding her chin in his hand, he gazed fondly into her defiant eyes. When she didn't break, he released her chin and moved on.

"I'll thank you to treat Lady Locksley with respect," Robin ordered, employing the commanding tone he had learned while on Crusade.

"Still an arrogant son of a bitch, aren't you, Locksley? Ah, well, to business! Much as I despise you, I will have a word with you."

"Sire?" Robin's tone betrayed his violent disregard for his monarch.

The King sighed in spoiled exasperation. "It's Philip!"

"And just what does the King of France have to do with me?" Robin asked. In spite of his dripping wet clothing, Marian had taken his arm and was pressed against his side. Whatever King John wished to inflict on Robin, she'd insist it would also be inflicted on her.

"He's stealing my lands! Surely you know that, Locksley!"

"He's winning them away from your Angevin armies by combat," Robin corrected. "And...?"

"And I want you to lead an army and get them back!"

There was stunned silence. At last, Robin shook his head and uttered a single, firm, "No."

"Oh, come on, Locksley!" the King cried. "Much as I hate to admit it, you have a way getting men to follow you...to rise above and beyond what they are capable of! You're greatly responsible for my brother's victories in Outremer."

"Richard is the sole reason we won those battles. I was only following his orders."

"Oh, give it a rest, Locksley. Richard this...Richard that...! In case you haven't noticed, the Lionheart is dead! I'm King now, and I command you follow MY orders! You will travel to France and lead my army, or you will stay here and rot in my dungeon! Or, better yet, hang for your insubordination! Don't you know the only two reasons I haven't revoked my late brother's pardon for your dastardly crimes as 'Robin Hood' are because I need the revenue monies you're so good at raising, and I need you to keep my kingdom safe! Well, my kingdom isn't safe! She's being plundered, one acre at a time, by Philip Augustus of France!"

Robin maintained his steady gaze. "If England is threatened, I will defend her. But Philip is taking Angevin lands, not England's. Let your Angevin citizens protect their own interests. I'm done fighting battles in foreign lands. My own people need me here with them."

King John's eyes narrowed. "So, you dare defy me?"

"I will not fight unless England herself is threatened."

"Very well, then!" John huffed. "Not only is your pardon revoked, but so is the pardon of the rest of your shabby little outlaw gang! Guards...arrest every former member of Robin Hood's gang! I will see them all hang!"

...

**(Note: When Richard was king, his kingdom consisted of England and the large western area of present day France. His holdings in what is now France were larger than all of England. France was a very small kingdom, consisting of the lands immediately surrounding Paris. Flanders, Champagne, Burgundy, Toulouse, and Blois were each separate Counties or Duchies. Under King John's mismanagement, however, England lost all of the area in present day France to the French King Philip, except for Aquiitaine and Brittany. Just another reason to admire King John! A clue...no!)**


	14. Chapter 14

"Run, Robin? Run?"

Much's words were an echo from the past, his standard response to trouble.

"No!" Robin answered.

His "no" wasn't only directed to Much. It was his reaction to King John's order to throw him and his friends into the dungeons, his response to the King's orders that he go into battle, his answer to his own running thoughts, which asked him whether he and his men should fight off their would be captors and flee again to the forest.

Robin knew what his answer had to be. His men had families now...children who depended on them for all their needs. He couldn't make them give up their lives, nor their homes and families.

"I will lead your army," he told the King.

His eyes flew to Marian's face. It appeared stunned, yet she summoned her strength and signalled her support for his decision. She had no idea how much her affirmation meant to him.

"Excellent!" King John crowed. "Now we can begin to enjoy your little party!" He raised his voice. "Wine! Someone, bring your king some wine! Oh, and, by the way, Locksley, you leave in two days' time."

"Excuse me." Robin curtly bowed his head, took Marian by the hand, and silently led her into their home and up the stairs to their darkened room.

...

Upstairs, shut off from the rest of the world, the two lovers stood, silently clinging to one another in the darkness. How long they stood together, they did not know. Nor did they have any idea how they made their way to the bed. They lay upon it, completely dressed but for Robin's boots, legs entwined and bodies pressed tightly against each other.

Robin's voice finally broke the silence.

"It is not the Holy Land," he confirmed, his hands spread in her hair. "It's only across the channel. We can write. If it's safe, you can visit."

"You're wet," she answered, her voice still stunned. Sitting up, she began desperately pulling off his wet clothing, and tossing it aside. He lay still, watching her...his ardor rising as he let her strip him naked.

At first he did not recognize her eyes. The look they wore was foreign to him, until he realized he had seen it before. It was the look of angry loss...the look she wore in the forest when anger replaced shock and tears over her father's death, and the look he had seen most recently when she had snapped at him after they had lost Richard.

"I'm not leaving you, Marian. I swear it. I will come back."

Still, she did not speak. Her breath was coming hard and fast. Draped in her own clothing, still damp from having been pressed against his own wet things, she lay on top of him and began urgently kissing his face, his neck, his chest. When her mouth reached the ugly wound in his side, she uttered a frightened little cry, and he sat up and forced her to face him.

"Marian, look at me," he pleaded. "Look at me."

Her eyes changed the moment they met his intense gaze. Their hardness melted away into fear and sorrow as they filled with tears.

"My love," he whispered, wrapping her in comforting arms, breathing the endearment again and again into her hair.

"One moment, and everything is changed," she whispered.

"No. Nothing's changed. It's no different than when I take a trip. I will be back."

"Promise me."

"I swear it."

Their eyes locked, and they slowly nodded their heads.

They lay back down, her body still coverring his. Their lips sought each other. His fingers, so adept with the bow, struggled with the laces on her gown, finally tearing at them when they would not yield. He threw her gown, her chemise, her undergarments, her stockings and her slippers to join the jumbled mass of his discarded clothing on the floor. Their bodies fused together and rocked in frenzied rhythms until they reached peak upon peak of sheer physical ecstasy. But when it was over, and they still clung to one another, there was none of their accustomed joy, but only the feeling of portending loss and separation.

"Nothing, my love," Robin promised, when he at last found his voice, "nothing can tear us apart."

Not even death? she wondered. But she did not speak.

...

In the morning, things did not appear brighter. As the family broke their fast together, and Robin stared at his darling little girls, he wondered how he could ever bear to leave them.

The sound of hoofbeats in the yard alerted them they had a visitor, and before they could wonder who it was, Much strode into their home.

"I'm going with you, Robin," he said firmly.

Marian looked at her husband, as he stood and clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. His appreciation for Much's love and loyalty clearly moved him, but he could not accept his offer.

"No, Much," Robin sighed. "Your place is with your family now."

"Eve understands," Much insisted. "I did not come to this decision lightly."

Much hated war. Much hated danger. Much adored his home, his family, his life of ease and comfort. Yet Much was sacrificing it all, to join Robin on the hated battlefield.

"I don't deserve your devotion, my friend," Robin uttered quietly.

"You do. You always will," Much claimed, and the two friends closed the distance between them in a loving embrace of true friendship.


	15. Chapter 15

There was much to do to prepare for Robin's departure for France, yet he chose to delay most of the tasks, opting instead to spend every moment with his family. Robin delegated the packing to his manservant Thomas, and had taken time to thoroughly discuss the condition of his estate with Thornton. He knew he would have to tackle his ledger accounts, but that was something he always procrastinated anyway. Maybe when Gracie was napping he'd get to them. But no...he wanted to practice archery with Ellen then, so she could have his full and complete attention to herself.

More pressing, he needed to gather his men, for he still considered them the best and bravest England had to offer. He needed to warn them of the precarious condition between England and Scotland, due to John's strained and inept relations with "William the Lion," King of the Scots. William had favored Prince Arthur to be named King of the English, and John retaliated by withholding northern counties previously promised the Scottish King. Robin needed his men to be prepared, should Scotland invade. Should it happen, he would need to return in all haste.

He barely spoke to Marian, yet she was nearly always by his side. Off and on during the day, one or the other would reach out a hand, and find it immediately clasped by their lover's.

After the noonday meal, Marian struggled to put Gracie down for a nap, to allow Robin and Ellen their special time together. Usually so patient with Gracie's wailings at naptime, Marian felt short tempered and irritable today.

"Gracie! I have heard enough! Stop your ridiculous crying and go to sleep!" Marian slammed the door to the nursery shut and leaned against it. There was shocked silence on the other side of the door.

"Gracie?" Marian asked quietly. She was just about to push the door open again, when Mattie stopped her.

"Well done, milady," Mattie complimented.

"She's not screaming," Marian said. "Why is she not crying?"

"If you will excuse me, milady, but have I not always told you your coddlings do not work? I understand you and His Lordship mean well, but children need a firm hand. You must never waver from the path of discipline. You see, milady, now that you've shown her you are in charge, she will assume her rightful place as-"

A loud wail arose from the other side of the door. Marian shot Mattie a triumphant stare, tossed her head, and proudly opened the door to her daughters' room.

"Gracie!" she cried, picking up her round little nearly bald baby girl and cuddling her tiny body against her chest. Gracie uttered several little shuddering sighs, and promptly fell asleep.

"Hmph!" Mattie snorted.

The sound of Allan a Dale's voice downstairs made Marian lay her child down. Quickly smoothing her hair, she descended the steps to see him.

"Well, I am surprised you're here," Marian greeted. "What happened? Did you forget something last night?"

Allan's smile was not his typical devil-may-care grin. He actually appeared nervous.

"Oh, no. What have you done now?" Marian accused.

"Nothing!" he objected. "At least not yet! Not bein' funny, but you can't talk me out of it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, more and more curious by his odd behavior. "Allan...you're not drunk, are you?"

"Naw...rarely touch the stuff! I'm around it all day...I actually prefer milk or water. No, I do! Really!" He sighed nervously and looked around. "Where's Robin?"

"Don't tell me you're offering to join him in battle, too?"

"Naw...I heard about Much, though. I just thought...it bein' his last night here for awhile...I just thought he might like to give me his permission to marry. Not that I need it or anything, but Annie does, I think."

There was a silence, folllowed by Marian asking, "Pardon?"

Allan gulped. "Married. Yeah. Me. To Annie. Tonight, so Robin can be there. No need to hurry...no bun in the oven or any such thing. Just want all my friends there. Will's my Best Man."

Marian's smile lit up her face as brightly as it had before King John had delivered his news. She threw her arms around Allan's neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"When did you...how long have you...oh, my! Allan and Seth will be brothers!"

"Yeah...that's the reason I'm marryin' her."

"Allan, you're not marrying Annie because of Seth!"

Allan chuckled. "No, I'm not."

"Who all knows?"

"Will and Djaq. Annie, naturally. Allan. Seth. Now you."

"I sincerely hope you got down on one knee."

"Did Robin?"

"Of course."

"Well, I wasn't exactly in a vertical position when I asked her, if you know what I mean."

Marian rolled her eyes before squeezing him in another big hug. At that very moment, Robin came striding in, carrying Ellen perched atop his shoulders.

"Marian?" he asked, viewing Allan in his wife's arms with suspicion. Allan attempted a joke.

"Whoops! I thought you said he'd already left!"

Robin did not appreciate the humor. He put his daughter down and approached Allan, his body archly threatening, eyes open wide in a questioning smirk.

"How was the shooting?" Marian asked, still smiling radiantly.

"Daddy said I did well. He couldn't shoot today."

"Couldn't shoot?"

Robin quickly dismissed his wife's look of concern.

"Why this friendly visit, Allan?" he asked.

Marian smiled once again, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Allan has something to ask you," she laughed.

"Well? What is it?"

Allan drew a deep breath before blurting out he needed permission to marry the woman who had finally stolen his heart.

...


	16. Chapter 16

"I, Allan, take you, Annie..."

Tears flowed during the ceremony as freely as ale would flow afterwards, as Allan's numerous friends squeezed into the Locksley village church to witness something few believed would ever happen...Allan a Dale finally saying his marriage vows.

Allan didn't believe all the "mumbo jumbo" of the Catholic Church, but Annie had wanted a priest, and who was he to deny his bride what she wanted on her wedding day? Besides, he probably couldn't have kept a straight face if he'd asked Robin to officiate.

He didn't want to laugh. He wanted Annie to know just how serious he was about committing to her. He was done sowing his "wild oats," and looked forward now to being the best husband to Annie and father he could be...to both his boys.

As for the boys, they stood side by side at the front of the church with their parents, the dark head a good four inches taller than the blond one. Seth stood straight and rigid, his carriage bred into him, despite his common upbringing. Young Allan stood by, casually relaxed and at ease, as he was in nearly every situation.

"If they were a bit taller, and older, and whiskered, and dressed in black," Much whispered to Eve, "I'd be running away right now."

"Shh!" she whispered back, fondly squeezing his hand.

Eve was thankful to see Allan find someone to love. There had been a time when she knew he had secretly fancied her, and to say she hadn't been tempted would be a lie, though she'd never betray her husband. If she shed tears now, it wasn't because of the wedding. She kept remembering Much would be leaving her come sunrise.

Her sweet, kind, generous husband would be leaving her! She knew she could manage their family and Bonchurch quite well in his absence...she had no qualms about that. But how they would all miss him! Despite his ways, which, to be honest, could be extremely annoying, he was matchless in his loyalty, devotion, kindness, and pure heart. How he could have witnessed all the horrors he had seen throughout his life while still maintaining his purity was a wonderful mystery, and one of the reasons Eve loved him so much.

She was not jealous of Robin...well, alright, she was. But out of love she had told Much she understood his decision to accompany the man he'd followed his entire life. He had explained to her that Robin needed him...that Robin might die if Much were not there to protect him from the risks he would surely take, and she suspected her husband spoke truth.

Djaq, meanwhile, did not cry. Tears rarely wet her dark lashes. She was content and, for some reason, _proud_ this evening. She was proud of Allan for growing up and conquering his fear of family, and she expected he would find happiness and peace in his union. She was also proud of her handsome young husband, standing at the front of the church beside their friend.

Will and she had been given another job to do, now that Robin was leaving. Robin had pulled them aside and charged them and Little John to look after Marian and his girls while he was away. It was a commission they were honored to take on, and they assured Robin he would have no cause to worry about his family's well being.

The rings were blessed and the happy couple pronounced "man and wife." Locksley was about to host its second feast in as many days.

...

Far gone on ale at the wedding feast, Kate staggered, giggled, and slipped to the ground just as Robin walked by. As he stopped to help her back to her feet, she threw her scawny body against his chest and wept.

"You can't go! I'll never see you again!"

Robin gently removed the clinging mass of scraggly blond hair and tattered dress that was Kate. "It's alright, Kate," he assured her. "I will return to Locksley. In the meantime, if you ever need anything in my absence, come see my wife. Lady Locksley will take care of you every bit as well as I could. You have my word." He turned and walked away.

Kate stared after him, her drunken eyes filled with tears. His word? What did she want with his "word?" When would he ever understand how she cared for him?

Robin moved to his stables. He had asked Ian to saddle a horse...not Achilles, for he would ride him come morning, but Tannin, a chestnut gelding he had recently purchased for Marian's birthday. The horse's name had been inspired by Robin's time on Crusade, for Tannin meant "Dragon" in Hebrew. Marian was very fond of him, and Robin wanted to ride with his wife behind him one last time before he had to leave his home.

With Marian's arms around his waist, Robin steered Tannin deep into Sherwood Forest, digging his heels into the horse's sides. Tannin galloped swiftly through trees, leaped over fallen trunks and charged through bush and bramble. At last, Robin drew rein, jumped down from the saddle, and held out his arms for Marin to dismount.

Of course, she needed no help dismounting. It was courtesy, as well as an excuse to hold her in his arms, as if he needed such a thing.

"I knew you would bring me here," she smiled, removing her shoes to climb across the log bridge spanning the stream, while Robin secured Tannin's reins to a tree. He joined her where she sat in the center of the log, nibbly climbing across the slippery bridge.

Marian immediately turned her face to his to enjoy a deeply relished kiss.

"Well," Robin smiled, when the kiss was over, "I am glad you aren't going to send me on my way with a black eye this time."

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Be careful what you say, and I won't have to."

This log had long been a favorite romantic spot with them. Not only was it the site of their first kiss, but it was also the site of his attempted first kiss, which had so surprised her, she had slugged him in the nose. While he had been away on Crusade, it had given way and fallen into the stream, but years later, Robin had Little John replace the bridge, as a romantic "gift" to his bride.

"Robin," Marian asked lightly, "what did Ellen mean today when she said you couldn't shoot?"

She heard a soft moan escape his lips.

"Robin? What did she mean?"

"It's true," he admitted desperately at last. "I couldn't."

Marian waited for him to elaborate. She knew she needed to employ every bit of patience she could muster to avoid scaring him away from sharing what he needed to tell her. As she let her fingers play in the curls at the nape of his neck, she felt him relax. It cost him a lot of effort, but he told her.

"I couldn't put the killings out of my mind, Marian. So, I couldn't shoot."

"Because you know you'll have to kill again," she finished for him.

He nodded, then stared down into his hands, picturing them bathed in blood.

"Robin!" she cradled his body tightly, just as she had done Gracie's earlier today, and tried to rock away his guilt.

He closed his eyes, futilessly attempting to shut out the images of the unarmed men he had slaughtered at the Massacre of Acre. He had only been following King Richard's orders, but the deeds he had done that day would haunt him forever.

"I didn't bring you here to talk about this," he said, not wanting to waste his final evening with her.

"No, of course not. Still, I'm glad you told me." She gazed into his eyes and thrilled him when he heard her murmur, "I love you, my husband."

Smiling again, he answered, "I love you, my wife."

They both felt sad sitting on their log bridge, dangling their feet over the water and holding hands. They weren't innocent children any longer, and the weight of their approaching separation and Robin's role as soldier oppressed them. It was better on Tannin's back, with the wind whipping their faces and an occasional branch slapping their cheeks.

Robin stood and held out his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, and she rose to rejoin him on her new horse.

...

That night their lovemaking was as tender and unhurried as last night's was frantic. Every kiss, every touch was a moment to be savored, an outpouring of their deeply passionate love.

Later that night, Robin suffered one of his worst nightmares ever. Images of Acre flooded his mind, torturing him as he relived hacking, hewing, stabbing, and slicing his way through thousands of helpless unarmed captives. The sound of their screams echoed in his head, even after Marian had forced him awake.

As she held his sweat drenched body and caressed his furrowed brow, she cursed King John with all her heart for making her brave, peace loving husband leave everything he loved to fight a war without cause.


	17. Chapter 17

Morning came too soon...far too soon. Robin stood in the yard before his large manor house, saying his goodbyes to his loyal servants. Every single one of them had tears in their eyes, wondering how much time would pass before they would see their beloved master again.

When he had spoken a few words to each servant, Robin squatted down and stared into the precious faces of his sleepy eyed girls. His heart felt as if it was being rendered apart, not knowing how long it would be before he saw their sweet faces again. He was glad, at least, they had no clue he would be gone long, and he fixed a smile on his face so he wouldn't upset them.

"Dragon story," Grace requested.

"I just told you the dragon story last night, Apple Blossom," he reminded her gently.

"More dragon story," she begged.

Robin was a marvelous storyteller, and the "dragon story" was Grace's favorite. It concerned a little boy and a young armorer named Lizzy, who tricked a dragon by building a toy one. It also contained a silly king, and the voices Robin used when telling the story made his girls, and Marian, collapse with laughter.

Ellen's voice piped up.

"Daddy, will you marry me?"

He grinned at his older daughter. "So, you enjoyed Annie's wedding last night, did you?"

"Yes. Will you marry me, Daddy?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Boo. Your mother asked me first."

"Oh." Ellen thought for a moment, then asked, "Daddy, is Tannin a boy horse?"

"You might say that."

"I want to marry him, then."

Robin squeezed both his girls in a tight bear hug, and only released them with the greatest effort and will power. He then stood and faced a pale and sober faced, but brave Marian. He wasn't sure he could speak.

"I love you," he managed to say, his voice coming out shakey.

"I love you, too. Be safe."

They kissed goodbye, their lips clinging together as their hearts fairly screamed at the cruelty of this forced separation. Finally, Robin pulled away and mounted Achilles.

He remained stoic. Much, with red rimmed eyes, was waiting on his horse, having already bidden his beloved family goodbye.

"You don't have to come, Much," Robin urged. "Go back home to Bonchurch."

Much shook his head, meeting Robin's eyes. "Somebody has to look out for you," he smiled weakly.

Robin was more grateful than he could ever say for Much's loyalty and companionship. Casting one more longing, lingering glance over his home, his servants, and his family, he said at last, "Come on, Much, let's go."

...

After a few weeks of travel, Robin and Much met the army Robin was supposed to lead at Le Mans. They were appalled at the condition of King John's troops.

The men were hungry, weak spirited, filthy in body and mind, riddled with lice and full of ribald stories. Many of the local barons had switched their allegiance from John to Philip of France, wanting their provences to fall under Capetian, rather than Angevin rule.

Robin's first order of business was to see that the troops were well fed. He ignored talk he overheard of being referred to as "Richard's pretty boy favorite," with all its nasty implications. King John expected him to gain the support of these men, yet had first crippled him by spreading lies to undermine his authority? It was typical of John.

"No wonder the king is losing," he quietly told Much. "Mercenaries...most of them! Has he no soldiers who fight for his cause?"

A voice from their past answered, "You belittle us, Robin Hood, if you think we mercenaries cannot win."

Robin and Much stared at one another in disbelief. They both knew that voice. Robin turned and faced the speaker.

"Have you not heard, Ellingham, I am no longer called 'Robin Hood?' I go by my rightful title, Lord Locksley, now."

"So I've heard. And King John's sent you here to lead us. Well, that's rich! Still, you're a brave fighter, Hood, and a clever one, as I recall. Looks like we'll be fighting on the same side this time."

"You...you are revolting!" Much proclaimed. "You tried to have us killed, and on Robin's birthday, of all days! You ruined his perfectly well planned party! You should be ashamed of yourself! Shame on you! And now, you expect us to fight alongside you? I don't think so!"

"I was only doing my job that day in Nettlestone."

"Are the rest of these soldiers like you?" Robin asked.

"What do you mean, like me?"

"Unprincipled."

Ellingham spat. "Principles are for those born to rank, for they're the only ones who can afford them."

"That's not true," Robin argued. "My friend Much here would disagree with you. In fact, I know many men, born to low stations, who live by the principles of duty and honor."

"I know all about your former men, Hood. Remember, it was my business to see you all in Hell."

There was an interruption as a messenger came riding at a furious pace.

"Where is Robin of Locksley?" the messenger asked in breathlesss French.

"I am he."

The messenger drank from a proffered flask. "I have an important message for you. Queen Eleanor of Acquitaine is under attack in the castle at Mirabeau. She commands you bring your army to defend her at once."

...

**(Note: Queen Eleanor was attacked by the French King Philip's troops at this time, in Mirabeau. The outcome of the battle in the following chapter will echo historical facts).**


	18. Chapter 18

Robin ran his eyes over a map so he could locate Mirabeau, to see which direction he needed to lead his troops. The town with its fortress lay approximately eighty miles south of Le Mans.

"Right," he said. "Work to do. Ellingham, gather the men. I need to address them."

Ellingham quickly nodded his head and moved off, shouting orders to his fellow mercenaries. Robin turned to the messenger, who had brought news of Queen Eleanor's impending capture.

"Tell me all you know," he commanded.

"Her Majesty got wind of trouble brewing in the Lusignan family. Do you know of them?"

Robin smirked, exchanging a knowing look with Much. "We fought at Acre with Guy de Lusignan. Don't tell me he's behind this."

Guy de Lusignan, Count of Poitiers, may have fought on the same side as King Richard, but he was no friend of Robin's. He resented Robin of Locksley for "stealing" his glory at the Battle of Acre. Sir Guy had been trying unsuccessfully to capture the city from the Saracens for two full years, when King Richard arrived and swept it in a matter of weeks, thanks to brilliant military strategy, dauntless bravery, and the unmatched skill of his famous archer. In addition, Lusignan's beautiful wife, Lady Sybille, known far and wide as "Melusine," had been strongly attracted to Robin, and although their attempted philandering on Robin's journey home from war had never been consumated, Lusignan had been terribly jealous.

"He and his nephews, Hugh and Geoffrey. They are King Philip's men. They think if they capture Queen Eleanor, they will hold a hostage nonpareil. The ransom Her Majesty will fetch will be equal, if not greater to that German Henry received for King Richard."

"Good."

"Good?" Much asked, confused.

"Her Majesty's person is in no immediate danger. Still, we cannot let them take her." He addressed the messenger again. "Will you come with us? I need you to tell me more along the journey south. Right now, I need to rally the men to follow me. We're going to make unprecedented time on this journey, and take the Lusignans by surprise."

...

Robin stood and faced the crowd of soldiers staring coldly back at him. Never before had he led such an army! It was easy for him to inspire men who shared his own values, but this dirty unprincipled lot fought only for money, and were paid whether they won or lost.

Not only that, but he didn't believe in the cause he was leading. Who could blame the citizens if they deserted John and preferred to be ruled by Philip, so that the English king had to hire an army to defend his lands? Philip had not wrested any land from Richard, though he had tried. Yet John was losing Normandy, acre by acre.

Nevertheless, no matter how bland Robin felt about the cause, he had a job to do. The sooner he completed it, the sooner he could return home to Marian and their girls. And, more to the point, he had a queen to rescue! His heart was most definitely in that!

"Men," he began, "Queen Eleanor is in danger in the fortress of Mirabeau. She may already be captured. I am asking you to take up arms and follow me south. I am asking you to march without stopping, on very little food and no rest, to save the Queen."

"Ah, let her die!" shouted a rough voice from the crowd.

"Yeah," took up another. "She's old. She'll die soon anyway."

"What good is the old harridan?" another asked. "Too old to warm a man's bed at night."

"Oh, you'd be surprised!" Much shouted back.

A hush fell over the crowd of mercenaries. Much colored scarlet and shifted his weight back and forth nervously.

"Not me!" he exclaimed. "It was my friend, Little John! He's the one she fancied!"

"Much!" Robin hissed through clenched teeth.

"Sorry!"

Robin realized the mercenaries would not be moved, even by the thought of the mighty Eleanor of Aquitaine held hostage. Therefore, he used the only thing he knew would reach them as bait. "I am prepared to double your earnings, if you can rescue the queen."

"King John won't go for that," Ellingham argued. "It's hard enough to get him to pay us as it is. He spends all his wealth on pleasure and jewels."

"I will pay you myself," Robin promised. "Are you with me?"

After a brief pause, a cheer arose from the crowd, and the men readied themselves for their long march south.

...

They completed the eighty mile trek in record time. In less than forty-eight hours, they were upon the town of Mirabeau, arriving just before dawn.

The town was walled, and its castle stood at its center. The Lusignans and their army had taken the town, but were biding their time, waiting for reinforcements, before tackling the fortress.

The messenger had informed Robin that all the townwall's gates were blocked but one, to allow supplies and the expected contingent of soldiers from Brittany to enter. And so, it was through the unblocked gate that Robin led his men.

"Take as many prisoners as you can," he instructed, "but do not kill any of them. If I hear that any one of you puts a captive to death, I will kill you myself."

As silently as possible, Robin led his army into the town, creeping furtively toward the open gate. Bursting through it, they completely shut off any route of escape. Light was just breaking as the armed besieged the unarmed, holding them captive, but sparing their lives. No trumpet sounded the attack, and most of the locals awoke from their drunken night's slumber early to find themselves at swordpoint.

Robin and Much themselves surprised Guy, Hugh, and Geoffrey de Lusignan, who had just sat down together to breakfast on pigeon pie. The Lusignans were armed, and all three leaped from the table to engage in hand to hand combat with Robin and Much. Although skilled fighters, the three Lusignans were no match for the two former outlaws. Much covered Hugh, while Robin covered Geoffrey and Guy. Much's empty stomach rumbled as he eyed the unfinished pigeon pies.

"Locksley!" Guy de Lusignan marveled. "I didn't expect you to join me for breakfast!"

"The queen invited me. I only came because her invitation trumps yours, Lusignan."

"And what will you do with us now, Locksley?"

Robin waited, sheathing his sword and lifting his bow, nocking an arrow in place and pointing it directly at Guy. "Perhaps I should bow to royalty and let Her Majesty decide your fate. She is well known for her courage and her wit, but never for her mercy."

"Let my wife plead for my safety," Guy suggested, in all seriousness.

"I doubt Her Majesty will be swayed by your wife's particular charms."

"She will not, but you will."

Robin chuckled, his eyes glowing with self satisfied amusement, coupled with loathing at Lusignan's suggestion. "Haven't you heard?" he asked proudly. "I married the woman I love. You're a worse coward than I remember, Lusignan, offering your wife as bait to save your pathetic skin. Where's the honor in that? No wonder you couldn't win Acre!"

"Indeed," came a royal voice, and Much's mouth dropped open as Queen Eleanor of Aquitatine stepped into the lodging of the Lusignan family.

She was surrounded by armed guards, allowing Robin and Much to put down their weapons and bow to her in all joy. She quickly raised them up.

"Robin of Locksley," she said, her voice dripping with amused affection. "Why is it such a man celebrated among my ladies for his handsome appearance, never looks presentable when we meet?"

"Apologies, Your Majesty," Robin chuckled, as he nearly always had to do when greeted by his affectionately scolding queen mother. "I took no time to groom myself, believing you preferred I come in all haste. But, if you'd rather, I can release these prisoners, go out and come in again, all fresh from a bath, with my hair combed."

"You are saucy, Robin," the queen smiled. "Lack of sleep disagrees with you, I see. Come, enter the castle, and I shall make you and Lord Bonchurch more comfortable."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, but I'm afraid we must decline. I cannot trust King John's army of mercenaries not to despoil the town."

"Nonsense! My men will keep them in line. But I'm suprised they haven't killed the prisoners yet. This is a first! You make record time getting here, then capture the wicked with no bloodshed? However did you mange that feat, Robin?"

"Robin wouldn't let them," Much piped up.

The queen looked bemused. "Well done, Robin, as ever. Now, you cannot deny an old woman her wishes to reward her deliverers. And I believe you will not regret joining me. There's an old friend or two inside the castle walls, eager to become reacquainted and show you how very grateful they are for your rescue."

It was Robin's turn now for his mouth to drop open. But only for an instant. He quickly recovered his poise, and laughed his quiet nervous laugh which always surfaced when he was being besieged by beautiful females.

"I fear I must disappoint whomever you claim waits for me. I am a happily married man, Your Majesty."

"Maybe so, but you forget you are subject here to the laws of my Court of Love. You must play along, Robin."

"I must not."

There was silence, while Much gulped. Never had he heard Robin sound so fierce and angry toward Queen Eleanor. His round blue eyes grew even rounder, as they darted back and forth anxiously between Robin's furious gaze and the queen's surprised expression.

"Very well, then," Queen Eleanor recovered. "You are tired from your long journey. Come inside anyway. You must bathe, and dine, and rest...not necessarily in that order. Come, and we shall see how you feel when you recover."

The two men followed the Queen into the castle.

...

**(Note: I took liberties with history in this chapter, but some of it is true. Queen Eleanor really was rescued by King John's troops at Mirabeau, after a surprising forty-eight hour march of approximately eighty miles. The town was being led by the Lusignans, though Guy was not present. I added him since he and his wife appeared in my previous story, YOU MUST HAVE HAS SUITORS. They were surprised while breakfasting on pigeon pie, and the town was captured withou t bloodshed, for the leader commanded no blood be spilt. One fact I omitted was that this is when John actually captured Arthur of Brittany, but in my story, John has already murdered Arthur, though Robin still doesn't know it. Since this was a glorious victory for John over Philip of France (just about his only one) I decided to award it to Robin and Much. Thanks for reading. More thrilling adventures coming!) **


	19. Chapter 19

"Your Majesty, my men are tired, hungry, and greatly in need of delousing. Before Lord Bonchurch and I agree to your gracious hospitality, I need to see them settled first."

Queen Eleanor smiled. "Always thinking of others! You haven't changed, Robin. Very well, have them escorted inside. They may dine and sleep in the Great Hall, but I want them deloused in the courtyard first." She turned to a page and ordered, "Send Ruth and the other women to delouse Locksley's men."

Robin sent Much ahead to soak in a warm bath, dine on a tasty meal, and sleep in a soft fresh bed. After marching nonstop for two days, then fighting, Much had earned it. Robin himself first stepped outdoors to the castle courtyard to oversee his men, and give Ellingham orders.

His men filed in, grumbling about the delousing process, which they considered unnecessary. A meal and a place to sleep on the floor were all they wanted.

Very shortly, a bevy of old women shuffled in as well, ready to pick lice from the soldiers, then pour boiling water bubbling over a fire onto their heads. Robin was surprised to see their leader approach him, a glint in her ancient wizened eyes.

He arranged his expression to one of respect, even though the old woman was uglier than Vaisey. Her face was creased, her eyebrows fuzzy, her teeth mostly gone, and she sported two large warts on her face, both sprouting thick black hairs. Everything on her sack-shaped body sagged. Still, Robin thought, she's a decent human being, who deserved his courtesy.

"Good day," he greeted. "Thank you for helping my men. They are sure to complain, but will be grateful later, I assure you."

The old hag wheezed in laughter.

"Bless you, laddie, I swear you don't remember me, do you? Well, can't say as I blame you. You were far gone with fever when last we met. My, my, my, but you've beefed up some, haven't you, Fresh Cheeks? A right skinney lad you were...but lovely all the same."

"Excuse me?" Robin asked. For some reason, his sharp animal-like instincts were alerting him to sense danger.

"Go ahead and strip your things off now, my boy," she instructed. "Don't be shy. Old Ruth's seen it all before anyway, Fresh Cheeks." With that, Robin felt his backside pinched.

He jumped and faced her angrily. "Madame, if you are to delouse my men, you must do it with dignity. My soldiers have been marching without food or sleep for two days-"

"So I've heard. Take your clothes off. Old Ruth's not going to work her magic on you out here in broad daylight, in front of all these people! No, no, no! That's for later, laddie! All I'm going to do now is pick the lice off you."

"I have no lice," Robin clarified, then froze in horror, as memory returned.

No! Not _T__he _Ruth! Not the one who had...who had...while he was sick in Limasol, on his journey home from the Holy Land!

"What are you doing here?" he asked hollowly. "Why aren't you in Cyprus?"

"Bless you, lamb, you do remember old Ruth! Good! Well I travelled with Melusine from Cyprus, dearie, but we had a falling out. Decided to leave the Lusignan's, and went to work here in the castle. It's a small world, isn't it, Fresh Cheeks? Who'd of thought we would meet again?"

"I really need to get some sleep," Robin breathed to himself. "Excuse me," and he staggered inside the castle, overwhelmed by the horrific nightmare of meeting old Ruth again.

...

After a bath, a meal, and several hours of refreshing sleep, Robin felt much better. He was pleased and satisfied at how well the rough band of unprincipled mercenaries had obeyed his commands. They had successfully rescued Queen Eleanor, without spilling a drop of blood. Now, all they needed to do was await King John's orders on what to do with the prisoners. Robin sadly doubted he would find a gloating King John demonstrate mercy, or even humanity.

Freshly clothed, he joined the Queen and her court at dinner. He was typically late, and joined Much, whose cheeks were full of roast venison.

"Robin, for once, you should be glad Marian's not here."

At Marian's name, Robin perked up, highly interested.

"What about Marian?" he asked.

"Be glad she's not here. It might be awkward for you, what with Marguerite, the book lover, over there."

"Much," Robin insisted, "I could never be glad when Marian's far away...you ought to know that! But who is Marguerite?"

He happened to glance up and caught a pair of dark eyes watching him. It sunk in.

"It doesn't matter, Much," Robin said. "I barely remember her. She probably doesn't remember me, either. Besides, I'm a happily married man. All I want to do here is await my orders, so we can accomplish our next mission, and hopefully, head home."

But Marguerite had other ideas.

...

**(Note: If you're confused, please read You must have had Suitors.)**


	20. Chapter 20

"Don't look now, Robin, but the book lover's heading this way!"

Robin shot Much a startled look, then grudgingly rose to greet Marguerite. "Good evening," he said in French, politely but coldly.

She smiled, dipping her head slightly to the side and eyeing him from top to toe appreciatively.

"You saved us. You are a hero again, it seems."

"A happily married hero," he grinned, deciding to put a stop to her attempted flirtation before it took wing.

"With a wife far away at home. A wife who need never know."

Much nearly choked on his venison, but Robin was equal to the challenge.

"Your implication, although kindly offered, insults my lady wife, and my honor will not stand for her to be insulted."

Marguerite took a step back. Of course! She shouldn't have approached him in front of his friend! She remembered what a blabber mouth his friend was! Robin of Locksley must be covering, so his friend wouldn't blabber to his wife. Well, she'd just have to see if he felt differently when his friend wasn't about.

"Forgive me," she apologized. "It is rare indeed for a man to refuse me, particularly a married one." She returned to her place at the table.

"Whew!" Much breathed. "Good job, Robin! That told her!"

"Notice she's not even embarrassed," Robin scoffed, sitting back down. "Or too disappointed! That should tell you how lightly she regards me, or herself."

They continued eating, laughing and joking about other matters, enjoying conversation with other guests at the table. When the meal was nearly finished, Much, giddy with wine, leaned into Robin and whispered, "Confess it. You're tempted, just a bit."

Robin smirked and shook his head no.

"Come on! Just a little? I mean, I don't want you to give in or anything, but it has been awhile since you and Marian..."

"Way too long," Robin acknowledged. "But no. I swear it. You know how it is, Much. You're in love with your wife."

"Yes."

"So you know...it can't compare."

"Can't it?"

Robin looked at his friend, realizing Much had no other experience outside the marriage bed. He actually respected his friend for it.

"Trust me," he said honestly, "it's not nearly as good."

"It's not?"

"Not even close."

"Good! Good! I knew that!"

Much happily returned to finish what was on his plate, but Robin excused himself. The brief conversation had sparked memories of Marian...amorous arousing thoughts, and he needed to get away into the cool night air, or better still, find a cold stream he could plunge into.

The brisp night air helped cool his cheeks. His loins were still on fire, but he didn't want to banish his thoughts of his beautiful wife quite yet.

He had actually been able to pen her a few words, and send them with his dispatch to King John, for John was still in Nottingham. He hadn't had time to write everything he longed to say, but he'd been able to tell her they'd saved Queen Eleanor with barely a skirmish, and he'd asked after her and the girls, trying to convey how much he loved and missed them. He did manage to include one passionate, romantic sentence at the end before he ran out of vellum.

He stood now at the very top of the castle, for he had climbed up here to enjoy the exhilaration of being so high off the ground. The air smelled fresher up here, far from the town's filthy streets. He could also enjoy an unobstructed view of the night sky.

"Ah, Marian," he sighed, looking up at the stars, "we'll be together soon. I promise."

"Have you ever made love on the top of a castle?" came the unmistakable voice of Marguerite. Robin inwardly cringed.

What was it about her? The only two times they had met, she had stalked him when he was trying to enjoy a moment's peace! Once, it was in a library, and now, it was on top of a castle!

He had given in in the library. He'd been single then, believing Marian was already married to another. But he wasn't the slightest bit tempted now, in spite of his physical state of partial arousal. It was Marian he longed for, his one and only true love, not some amorous stalker who, if he remembered correctly, had screamed at him and kicked him out of her bed when he'd suffered a nightmare. She wasn't as bad as Isabella of Gisbourne, but she was bad enough.

He looked at Marguerite now, thinking how pathetic and unladylike her behavior was. He had daughters. He knew they would never grow up to behave so.

"My lady," he said, choosing to leave her, "I bid you goodnight."

"You don't like me," she pouted.

"Not in the way you wish."

"You are too too cruel. I will charge you and bring you up before Queen Eleanor's Court of Love."

"Really? And I will remind Her Majesty who rescued her today."

"She will know it's for your own good. Look at you! You are wanting it."

Her words, drawing attention to his condition, embarrassed him. "Not with you."

Marguerite grew angry at that. "You are making me beg. I do not like to beg."

"Then I suggest you stop."

"You can have any way you want with me. Any way."

"You're begging again. It's not working."

He began to laugh at her, and at himself for ever having dallied with her. She was really shaming herself, and he wasn't helping by continuing to engage in this seedy debate. It was beneath him.

"Goodnight," he said firmly, and promptly left her.

He was over his state of yearning. She had killed it, with her attempts to seduce him. Still, he wanted to get away from the town and walk in the fresh green fields.

He walked a mile or more, holding a loving conversation in his head with Marian and their two daughters. It made him happy and sad at the same time.

As he stepped through the open gate of Mirabeau's town wall, he suddenly found himself beseiged by a gang of a dozen or so armed men. At first, he valiantly tried to fend them off, but there were just too many of them. He dropped his sword and put up his hands.

They quickly bound his wrists and ankles, and shoved him to the ground. Lifting his head to spit out the dirt he had nearly swallowed, he saw Marguerite standing among the men, glaring down at him.

"Is this how you treat your deliverers? And I'd always heard Anjou was known for its hospitality."

"Wait until you see firsthand just how hospitable King Philip can be."

"You are on Philip's side?"

"Better him than King John."

"Perhaps. But let me go. I have no argument with you."

"I would have let you go, Robin of Locksley, but you failed to please me. Now, you are King Philip's problem. Take him away."

The men lifted his bound body, heaved it into a cart, and whipped the horses to carry him east, towards Paris.


	21. Chapter 21

Bound like an animal, stripped of his weapons, Robin was unceremoniously hauled and shoved to his knees before the throne of King Philip of France. The French King smiled wryly and laughed quietly under his breath, enjoying the spectacle for a few short moments before ordering the prisoner unbound.

"Robin of Locksley! Welcome to France! Tell me, how are you finding my country so far?"

"You know what they say, Your Majesty. 'There's no place like home.' "

Robin stood solidly facing King Philip. They hadn't met since immediately following the Battle of Acre, when Philip, furious at the Lionheart, had left the Holy Land to travel home. Ever the schemer, Philip had thought to take advantage of Richard's absence and conquer his Angevin territories surrounding France. He had been unsuccessful, until John had succeeded his brother to the throne.

Philip stood, removed his bonnet, and ran a hand over his completely bald head. Although but thirty-five, he appeared much older.

"So, Locksley, what are you doing so far from home? I would have assumed you'd seen enough war in Outremer to last you a lifetime. As much as you fawned upon him, you are not Coeur de lion. You have not his stomach for killing."

"You are right, Your Majesty. I have killed enough. I'm only following orders."

"Ever the loyal and obediant servant, eh? Even when you despise your master?"

"I serve the Crown. I serve England."

"I see."

Philip circled Robin slowly, then returned to sit upon his throne.

"I cannot risk you fighting against me. I will not give up all I have gained...all I stand to gain!"

As an idea began to take shape in Philip's mind, he rubbed his hands together, devising his scheme.

"I shall hold you for ransom!" he cried at last. "John shall have you back, when he delivers me Arthur!"

Robin grew increasingly attentive.

"Your Majesty, has King John got Arthur? My friend and I have been searching for him for months. Awhile back, His Highness sensed danger and asked me to protect him and his sister. I failed. They went missing, and no one seems to know their whereabouts."

Philip narrowed his eyes and chuckled under his breath at Robin's earnestness.

"My friend, you have been wasting your time if you think you can find Arthur. Eleanor...perhaps. I do not know what John has done with her. But, your cousin Arthur is already dead."

Robin eyes grew wide at the dreadful news, increasing Philip's pleasure.

"It is common knowledge. Do you not know that John murdered him by his own hands? Then had his body, weighted with stones, flung into the river to be food for fish?"

"When did this happen?" Robin demanded, his shock giving way to anger.

"Months and months ago. Right after Arthur disappeared. You are not surprised, surely. Or do you believe your king incapable of such an act?"

Robin was silent, taking in Philip's news, sadly remembering his young cousin who had trusted him for protection.

"Now, you shall be shown to your chambers. Not a dungeon cell, Locksley, never fear! You are my guest! But, you may not leave me, until John trades you for Arthur." He laughed quietly again, rubbing his hands together in malicious glee. "Meanwhile, John's army shall flounder, without you as its leader. I shall win all of Normandy, as well as its surrounding provences. But never fear, John can keep your foggy little island...for now. Adieu, Locksley."

At that, Robin was surrounded, pushed and shoved toward his elegant chambers, where he was securely locked and bolted in.

...

Far away in Locksley, young Allan and Seth were enjoying the early summer sunshine, as they played outdoors with their friends, Daniel and Saffia Scarlet. Robin's little girls, Ellen and Grace wanted to play, too, and the older children were nice enough to let them. The girls' nurse Mattie rested on a bench under a tree, dozing off in the mild sunshine as the drone of bees in a nearby hive lulled her to sleep.

Annie had sent the boys away, desiring them to play in the fresh air, to keep them from getting underfoot while she cleaned her new house. Her wonderful husband Allan, very successful as proprietor of The Trip to Jerusalem Inn, had purchased the house in Nottingham for his new family, realizing that upstairs lodgings in the Trip may have been fine for a bachelor, but were hardly the thing for a growing family.

"Not bein' funny, but I'm thirsty," young Allan complained, after coming in third in a footrace, behind Seth and Daniel.

"There's a well," Saffia pointed. "Go help yourself."

"Shouldn't you go fetch the water?" Allan asked.

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"Are you? I never noticed." Already, he had an eye for the beautiful olive skinned child.

She merely smiled at him, and when her twin brother Daniel moved beside her and smiled at him, too, Allan gave in.

"Alright, alright! I'll go fetch some for us all. Who's got a bucket?"

With a superior air, Seth handed Allan a bucket.

"So," Allan asked, "who's coming with me? Or do I have to do it all myself?"

"I go," Grace volunteered. The other children laughed, but Allan didn't mind.

"Alright, you can tag along. I like you and Ellen better than the rest of them, anyhow."

He let Grace ride piggyback to the well, then sat her on its edge, facing out. She dangled her chubby little legs over the sides, while Allan pulled the rope to raise the submerged bucket.

"Nice fresh water, Grace. As much as we want. We'll see if we let them have any!"

Allan was only joking. He was a good natured boy, but he hadn't liked losing, especially not in front of Saffia.

"There!" he said, as the bucket from the well's bottom appeared. "Look, Gracie! You get the second drink, right after me!"

The tiny tot reached for the bucket, leaned too far, and fell into the well before Allan knew what had happened.

"Grace!" he screamed! "Help!"

His cries roused Mattie from her nap. She stood and waddled as quickly as her legs could carry her to the well, praying all the way for baby Grace's safety.

But Seth had seen what happened, and he was quicker on strong young legs than Mattie. He dashed to the well and dove into it without a moment's hesitation. He pulled a sputtering Grace from under the water, held her on one shoulder, and shouted for Allan to drop down the bucket.

"Drop it! You can use it to pull us up, or at least give me something to hold onto until you find a stronger rope."

But it held quite well, and in no time at all, Grace was in Mattie's arms, none the worse for her dunk, but wailing for her mother. Marian heard her cries and came running from the manor to cradle her wet child, who stopped crying the moment her mother held her.

When Marian learned what had happened, she quickly comforted Allan, who was berating himself for setting Grace on the edge of the well, and thanked Seth in glowing terms for his bravery.

"Come inside," she invited all the children. "You can put on some of Lord Robin's clothing while your things dry, Seth. They'll be a bit big, but it'll only be for a short while. Would you children like something to eat? Cook has just finished baking strawberry tarts."

When both wet children were dressed in dry clothing, happily feasting with their friends on strawberry tarts and fresh cream, and Marian was finally able to tear her eyes away from Grace, she found herself carrying on a conversation in her head with her husband.

"Now, don't get too big of a head, Robin, but I have to admit you were right about Seth. I wish you were here to see how he saved Grace. You couldn't have done any better yourself. So, I hope you don't mind I let him borrow some of your clothes. He looks splendid, though not half so handsome as you look in them."

She moved to the table and sat with the children, pulling Ellen onto her lap. Ellen's mouth was stained with strawberry filling from the tart, but Marian didn't mind one bit when her daughter planted a sticky kiss on her cheek. She simply held her tighter and wished with all her heart her husband would come home to them soon.


	22. Chapter 22

Much was frantic with worry. Robin had disappeared, and no one had a clue where he was.

"We need to find him!" Much told the mercenaries, who laughed in his face.

"How much are you going to pay us to look for him?" Ellingham asked.

"Money? You want money?" Much was astounded. "Alright! I'll pay you everything I have!"

"Everything? You're a lord now, aren't you? You're stinking rich! Alright, we'll look." Ellingham glanced all around the Great Hall. "There!" he taunted. "I looked! Now, pay me what you promised!"

The mercenaries laughed even more boisterously into Much's startled face.

Their rude laughter immediately ebbed away when Queen Eleanor stepped regally into their mist.

"Robin of Locksley is more precious to me than all the wealth in my duchy," she proclaimed. "You will search for him, you will find him, and you will be well paid."

Ellingham bowed his head. "Yes, Your Majesty. Men! Spread out! We hunt for Locksley!"

Much uttered a prayer of thanksgiving, then tried to bargain with God to help them find Robin.

...

Marian was enjoying a quiet breakfast at home with her little daughters, when King John surprised them by riding to their manor. John dismounted his horse, and unceremoniously strode into their home.

"Your Majesty," Marian curtsied, glancing quickly at Mattie in case she needed her to escort the girls away.

It was rare indeed that the king was up so early. His typical practice was to lie in bed until at least noon. Marian wondered what had brought him to her door so early.

He began without his customary pourparlars. "Philip's got Locksley," he whined, causing Marian to stop breathing for a moment. "What good is your husband to me, if he's Philip's prisoner? He can't lead my armies against Philip's when he's locked in a dungeon!"

"In a dungeon?" Marian asked, her heart in her throat.

"I imagine. Where else would he be?" John bit his fingernails and stomped his feet. "Locksley has failed me!"

"Is he hurt? Can you send your army to rescue him? Oh, Robin!" And Marian sank to the bench.

"Where's Daddy?" Ellen asked, and Grace banged her spoon and cried, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

"I am NOT your Daddy!" King John screamed. "He's been captured by an evil King, you stupid little girls, and he's most likely already dead, buried under the ground, his eyes eaten by worms while the rest of his stinking flesh rots from his bones!"

Both little girls stared at their king for a moment, then together, burst into tears.

"Oh, no," John whined. "Can't somebody shut them up?"

Marian gathered her daughters into her arms. "It's alright," she assured them, "Daddy's going to be just fine. I'm going to go find him and bring him home."

"Good, Mama!" Ellen cried. "Gracie, Daddy's coming home!"

"Dragon story!" Grace was very excited.

"That's right, dears, Daddy will be home before you know it, and he'll tell us the dragon story again."

The children happily resumed eating, and Marian called for Bridget to pack her a satchel, and for Ian to saddle her horse.

"You're going to France?" John asked in disbelief. "You expect Philip to release Locksley? My dear Meriam, you may be divine, but Philip will not let him go. He'll bed you and keep Locksley in custody. I know him, I tell you."

"He will not bed me, and I don't know what I can do, but I'll think of something! I must go to Robin!"

"Well, you cannot travel alone. Who are you going to get to go with you?"

Marian only needed a moment to decide. "John," she said at last.

"Me? Me, walk into Philip's court? My dear, you have to be joking!"

She glared at him briefly, then looked away, deep in thought. "Not you, Your Majesty. Little John."

"Not my dear mumsie's overgrown hairy boy toy?"

Marian raised her eyebrows, then shook the image quickly from her mind. "Little John...yes. Thomas," she called Robin's manservant, "Please send word to Little John. I need him to pack his things and accompany me. We're going to France to rescue Robin. Immediately."

Much couldn't have said it better himself.

"I'm coming, my love," she whispered. "I'm coming."


	23. Chapter 23

"Please! Please let us in! We need to see the king! He has my husband!"

Marian and Little John did not care that a Paris crowd was watching them with interest outside the Louvre, Philip Augustus' brand new magnificent castle. Although not yet completed, Philip could not wait to move into the masterpiece he had commissioned, and dwelt in splendor in the sections already habitable.

Such an odd looking couple, a regular Beauty and the Beast, Marian and Little John appealed to the crowd's imaginations. And the desperation in the English woman's eyes, and in her voice, were too good to be missed. As if begging, bribing, or demanding would secure her an audience with His Majesty!

"Please!" Marian cried again. "You've taken my money, now stand aside and let us in!"

The guard laughed at her commanding tone while the crowd continued to snicker. "It's my money now, Beautiful. Payment for having to stand here and smell your big hairy bear!"

Although Little John could not understand a word of French, he could read Marian's face and hear the laughter in the streets. He gave a mighty roar, causing most of the spectators to take a step back.

"Growl all you want, Big Bear, I'm still not letting you in."

Marian tried a different approach. "Do you know who my husband is?" she asked, certain Robin's lofty identity would secure their entry.

"The luckiest man in Christendom, I'd say, with you warming his bed night after night, Beautiful." There were shouts of approval from the men in the crowd.

Marian puffed an exasperated sigh. Castle guards were the same the world over, it seemed.

Still she continued, undeterred. "My husband is Sir Robert of Locksley, Earl of Huntington. What's more, he is the legendary Robin Hood. I know you've heard of him. I heard ballads of his adventures being sung in the streets here. I am the Maid Marian of the tales, and this is Little John."

The guard let out a huge guffaw. "Oh, this is priceless! If that's the case, Beautiful, why don't the ballads tell the truth? Robin Hood must be blind as a bat, for Big Bear here's nowhere little, and you're no maid, unless Robin Hood is both blind and impotent!"

Uproarious laughter rose from the crowd, but the mob parted as a tall, slender young woman pushed her way through. Although she was dressed in the colorful garb of a gypsy, her coloring was fair. Her appearance was unremarkable except for her magnificent hair, which fell past her waist in splendid vivid red coils. She walked right up to the guard.

"Let me in, Jacques," she told him, "and these strangers as well."

"Not today, Ursula. You've swindled enough money from us guards with your false fortune telling."

The woman took Marian's arm and led her a short distance away, much to Marian's surprise. The fortune teller's face was eager as she asked, "Are you really married to Robin of Locksley? I know your husband, if the man I met in Genoa years ago wasn't feeding me a false name. He travelled with a servant...talkative, slow witted, nervous, frightened, but a good fighter."

Marian's face lit up. "That was Much!"

"And Robin," Ursula continued, closing her eyes and growing more and more dreamy as her description flowed from her lips, "Tall, gorgeous blue eyes, sandy brown hair, straight aristocratic nose, luscious lips, lean strong body, calloused sensitive fingertips, tight little round butt? Overly slender, but ample where it counts?"

Marian stared at her with wide indignant eyes. "Just how well do you know my husband?"

"Oh." Ursula looked embarrassed. "He wasn't married at the time. But he was in love...deeply in love, with someone he'd left back home."

Marian smiled proudly. "That was me."

"So, you did wait for him! I'm glad. I told him you wouldn't, when I read his palm. He wasn't too pleased with me after that. I'm Ursula, by the way."

Marian's voice matched the coldness in her eyes. "You may call me Lady Locksley, and this is John Little." She remembered Much mentioning an Ursula with "vivid red hair," but she wasn't ready to befriend one of Robin's lights of love from his journey home from war. Whenever her imagination had conjured up images of Robin's dalliances, even though she hadn't thought about them in years, she had pictured them beautiful, sophisticated, and cruel, rather like Isabella of Gisbourne. But this woman was none of those things, boasting no beauty other than her unusual hair.

"I'll help you find Robin," Ursula offered. "He's a good man. He saved me from burning at the stake, so I'll help you get to him now."

"Thank you," Marian said, her voice catching in her throat. She turned and explained in English to Little John, while Ursula reapproached the guard.

"Come on, Jacques," Ursula coaxed, "let me in, and these good people, too."

"No, Ursula. Not today."

"But, Jacques, it's predestined I get in. I saw it in the stars last night! You can't fight destiny, you know. Be a good friend now and let us in."

"No."

"I'm offering a special. Two readings for the price of one. And I may even throw in something extra for you later."

"That's what you said last time. I'm still waiting, Ursula."

"Come on, Jacques. These people have come a long way! She's dying to see her husband, if you know what I mean. Look at her eyes! How can you refuse her? Maybe she'll promise you an extra reward as well."

He took a good long look at Marian. "Alright," he agreed, "you're in, but don't say it was under my watch!"

"Thank you, Jacques!" Ursula smiled at Marian. "Come on, we're in! Hurry, before he changes his mind!" And all three entered by the open gate.

Once inside, Ursula led them toward the Great Hall. "The King's probably feasting about now. Do you have any money? I can use it to bribe the guard. Paul will take it. And the queen will be amused to see me. She's often invited me in to entertain her nobles."

"Here," Marian offered some money. "Will that be enough?"

Ursula took it and pocketed a coin for herself. "More than enough. We're almost there. I'll go in first, and when I pretend to conjure you, enter with haste."

"Conjure us? I beg your pardon?"

"Just listen. You'll understand soon enough."

Marian felt she had little course but to obey. She prayed that Robin was on the other side of that door. It was all she could do to stop herself from pushing past Ursula and rushing through it herself.

...

Marian's hope was true. Robin was on the other side of the door, dining at King Philip's sumptuous banquet. The king was playing the generous host.

"Come, steward, more wine for our guest! Locksley, we must refill your cup! Be merry, my friend! Tonight, we feast!"

"No more, thank you." Robin declined the flowing wine at Philip Augustus' table. He needed to keep his wits sharp to seize any opportunity for escape, for he was no guest in Paris, but a prisoner.

King Philip had seated him on his lefthand side, making certain the table held no knives Locksley might use as weapons. He had also shackled Robin's ankle to a table leg, effectively hindering escape.

The French king was in a merry mood, enjoying the company of his "guest" and his third wife, Queen Agnes, who sat on her husband's righthand side. Never mind the Pope having declared their union adulterous, since Philip had not been granted an annullment from his second wife, the Danish princess Ingeborg! Philip was happy with his current queen, and happier still he had Locksley in custody. Let John Lackland try to win battles now! Softsword was no Lionheart!

"Do you know, Locksley," Philip was saying, "It is a blessing for France Coeur de Lion caught that fever in Acre that burned out his seed, making him sterile. No heirs but his brother John and his nephew Arthur! Pity poor Arthur, dead at John's hands. But see how it works to my advantage? No citizen wants John as ruler. It has ever been my goal to restore France to her days of glory. I mean to be a second Charlemagne, Locksley, and the ineptitude of your John is making my goal reality."

"Which is why we are keeping you here as our guest," the queen chimed in.

"The queen speaks truth," Philip agreed. "I shall not free you to lead John's armies against mine! I remember your victories at Acre too well!"

"Enough talk of politics, husband," Queen Agnes suggested. "We do not wish to bore our guest! Let us offer him entertainment instead!" She clapped her small hands together twice. "Bring in the fortune teller!"

Robin had ignored all the varied entertainments presented during the banquet, instead focusing his attention on possible plans to escape. But when he glanced up and saw the fortune teller, something about her jarred his memory, making him take notice.

It was her hair...a magnificent cloak of vivid red locks flowing down her back. He knew her, he was sure of it. They had met on his journey home from Acre...but where?

"Come, Sooth Sayer," the queen commanded, "read the palm of our guest! Tell him whether he shall ever be free again!"

The fortune teller approached Robin slowly, looking at him as curiously as he was looking at her.

"What does the future hold for Robin of Locksley?" the queen asked. "Tell us, oh Seer."

"I must look deeply into his palm first," Ursula replied, "and address him privately."

She moved to a stool, and Robin was unshackled and led to her. Guards surrounded him, but he was able to speak to the fortune teller without the king or queen overhearing.

The fortune teller took his palm in her hand, and appeared to study it assiduously. In truth, she was smiling at Robin through her unremarkable eyes, pleased to see him again after so many years, and happy to soon spring the secret of his wife's presence on him.

"So, you didn't lie to me. Your name really is Robin of Locksley."

"And your name is..." He wasn't sure, but the odds were good enough for him to hazard a guess. "Clorinda," he stated firmly.

"Ursula," she corrected.

"Sorry." He knew his sheepish grin would get him out of trouble with her. It worked, of course.

"You rescued me in Genoa, remember? We hid at the top of the lighthouse, with your servant. He hated heights."

"I remember now," Robin said. "And your predictions of my future were dead on, except for one. She _did _wait for me. I married her," he boasted proudly.

Her eyes returned to his palm. "This line indicates you might not be faithful."

"Read it again," he said.

Ursula sighed. He was still in love.

Still, she couldn't wait to see his reaction to her news. "She's here," she whispered.

Robin looked stunned. "Here?" he asked, standing and letting his eyes roam over the people in the room. "Marian?"

"Sit down. I'm just about to make her appear."


	24. Chapter 24

"Alright," Ursula whispered to Robin. "Get ready. I'm just about to summon your wife from the Great Beyond." She left a highly anticipating Robin and bobbed a curtsey to the King and Queen.

"So, Soothsayer," Queen Agnes began, "are you ready to tell us what lies ahead for Lord Locksley?"

Ursula's answer surprised the group of nobles assembled. "No, Your Grace."

"No?" There was surprised silence in the Great Hall.

The queen, however, had seen enough of Ursula's performances to know she must have something more entertaining in mind than merely reciting a litany of predictions. "Then pray tell us, why not?"

"Something, Your Majesty, is shrouding his future in a fog. His heart is so heavy, I cannot look into it. He longs for something."

The King frowned. "He shall not have his freedom until he is traded for Prince Arthur. Once John produces the Prince and brings him here to stand before me, Locksley shall remain my prisoner."

"Your guest," his wife corrected.

Ursula ignored the king and continued her performance, sure she would be a hit and receive plenty of coins today. "I can dispel the fog and summon what he longs for. By my powers, I can conjure it here before all your eyes, if Your Majesty so decrees it."

"This is a trick," King Philip declared, standing from his seat at the table. "Guards, do not let Locksley escape!"

"No trick, Your Majesty," Ursula assured him. "Tis not his freedom he longs for, but his wife."

The queen gasped with delight. "His wife! He misses his wife! How splendid! Robin Hood and Maid Marian! Yes! And you, Fortune Teller, you can conjure her presence here, amongst us?"

"I can."

The queen turned to Philip. "My Lord husband, please, let the soothsayer try!"

The king sat back down. He was used to his wife's nonsense, but didn't mind indulging her. "Very well," he agreed dryly. "But chain Locksley to the table again first."

Robin was escorted back to the table and his ankle chained, while Ursula began her performance. Appearing to throw herself into a trance, her face immobile and her body stiff, she stood, stomped, and walked three steps to the north, then turned on her heel and walked three steps to the south. She repeated her movements to the east and west, muttering nonsensical utterings in a low voice. Robin barely paid her attention, instead focusing his eyes on the door, every nerve tingling on edge to think that Marian might soon appear.

At last, Ursula stopped moving, turned her face heavenward, waved her arms in big sweeping movements and cried out, "Come from whatever corner of the earth you be, you who dwell in Locksley's heart, so that you may dwell once again in his arms!"

On the other side of the door, the guard Paul told a nervously excited Marian, "There's your cue. Go in there, now."

The door opened while the crowd of French nobles rose in unison to see. A loud laugh erupted, as Little John's head was spied towering above all those present.

"John?" Robin cried out in disappointed surprise.

"That cannot be his wife!" King Philip laughed.

All laughter ceased when Marian stepped into the open. Her loveliness brought forth a gasp, followed by a sigh, from the spectators.

Ursula eagerly watched as Robin and Marian's eyes locked. Her heart constricted in her chest to witness the looks of loving rapture passing between them. The exuberant mood she had been feeling suddenly died, to be replaced by a despair plunging her into darkness.

But Robin and Marian were transported. Robin tried to run, but his chains made it impossible to move. Marian ran to him instead, joyously throwing herself into his arms, lifting her face to his to be kissed. Smiling, they kissed again and again, breaking to gaze into each others' eyes, then kissing some more, as if they could never have enough. They seemed oblivious to everyone in the room but one another.

The queen was thrilled. Ursula had delighted them all with quite a show. This long awaited reunion of two hearts that beat as one was much more entertaining than a list of predictions.

As for the king, he was pleased as well. What better way to ensure Locksley did not escape, than to shut him up in a room alone with his wife? Judging from the way he was looking at her, escape would be the furthest thing from his mind. Philip doubted he'd even need to lock or bolt the door! But, of course, he would.

Now, what to do with Little John? The giant would be easily disposed of. Philip would send him on to Anjou, to keep company with Queen Eleanor. Let her have a prisoner of her own! The king laughed under his breath.

"Very good!" King Philip proclaimed. "These two deserve some privacy, methinks. Guards, unchain Locksley, and escort him and his lady to his chambers, and lock them in together."

In spite of being made prisoners, Robin and Marian found King Philip's words music to their ears.

...

Having no windows, Robin's otherwise sumptuous chamber in the Louvre was stuffy and hot. Nonetheless, Robin lay sleeping, his breathing peacefully measured, his lips smiling.

Marian lay awake on her side, facing Robin's back. Their legs were entwined, and the weight of one of his was uncomfortably heavy, but she did not mind in the least.

In the darkness, she could barely make out his form. She kept running her fingertips up and down the hard length of him, from his shoulder to his hip, just a breath from his body, her fingers itching to touch him again. But she resisted, wanting to let him sleep, guessing correctly he had not slept so well since he had left Locksley.

"My darling," she murmured happily, unable to resist touching him any longer. Burying her nose into the back of his neck, she inhaled the scent she loved so well. His curls tickled her nose and she giggled, then crossed her arms over his chest and pressed herself against his back. Of course, he woke up.

Groggily blinking the sleep from his eyes, he turned his smiling face over his shoulder to look at her.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"I haven't a clue and I don't care."

He sighed with the deepest contentment. "Don't you just love France?" he asked, making her laugh softly.

He rolled on top of her and traded her laughter for ultimate bliss.


	25. Chapter 25

"Robin, we need to find a way out of here."

Marian, dressed only in her light chemise, nervously paced the floor to Robin's chamber in the Louvre, while her husband sat up in bed admiring her, wearing nothing at all but a satisfied grin. King Philip's imprisonment suited him just fine.

"Why?" he teased. "When we're having so much fun?"

Marian stopped pacing, climbed onto the bed, and smilingly said, "I'm not denying it hasn't been fun. But think about it, dear. There's nothing to drink but wine, nothing to do but..." Her voice trailed off.

Robin snickered under his breath. "We've been talking, too," he protested. "And sleeping. And eating. All the basics. You're not tired of me already, are you, Lady Locksley?"

"Of course I'm not tired of you. Just sick of these four walls, this stale air, that filthy chamber pot we're expected to share...I suppose if I drank more wine it wouldn't bother me so much, but..." She looked as though she was about to burst into tears.

Robin's grin faded when he realized how distraught she was. "Come here," he said, enfolding her gently in his arms. As he tenderly stroked her hair, he explained, "It's alright, my love. While you were asleep, I was thinking. I have a plan, Marian."

"A plan to escape?" she asked with hope, pulling away to look at his face.

"That's right. You catch on quick." He winked and tapped the end of her nose affectionately. "I've been away from our girls longer than you have, you know. I need to get home."

She smiled at him again, her eyes shining. "So, what's the plan, Robin? What do we do?"

"Well, we can't break out of here alone. Not even with King Philip such a coward."

"A coward? I thought he fought in the Crusade with you."

"Trust me, Marian...he's a coward. He's afraid to ride any horse but the oldest, tamest one in France."

She looked at him in disbelief. Absolutely fearless herself on horseback, she couldn't understand anyone who wasn't. "You're joking."

"It's true," he replied seriously. "But it doesn't matter. We're not competing in a horse race; we're trying to break out of here. We need Ursula."

Marian didn't speak for a moment. She clapped her lips together and immediately looked away. "Ursula?" she asked coldly. "The fortune teller?"

Robin could read his wife's emotions. He drew a deep breath and let it out in a long drawn out sigh. So, she suspected something about his past liaison with the red head, did she? It was uncomfortable, but he'd better just tell the truth and clear the air. It hadn't meant anything, anyway. He'd already told Marian all he remembered...she just never had a face with a name before.

"You seem to have guessed...I met her on my way home from Acre, Marian. I seriously don't remember the details, because it didn't mean anything to me. I liked her better than the others, but I never loved her. I never even think about her. We spent one night together, that was all. Please forgive me. Please don't be sad."

Marian lifted sad eyes to his face, but her lips were smiling. "It doesn't matter, Robin. It's in the past. I know you love me." She sighed. "But how can she help us now?"

He smiled slowly, thankful Marian was confident of his love. Putting his arm around her and drawing her close again, he answered happily, "By putting on quite a show."

...

With covered head, Kate walked into a chapel in Kirklees Abbey, ready to appeal directly to God at the altar, to bring Robin home without Marian in tow.

"Do what you like with her," she prayed. "She can drown or get diseased, or choke on her food. But bring him home safe."

She genuflected and rose, confident her prayers would be answered. She nearly skipped back up the aisle, but stopped when her path was blocked by a woman just her size.

"Don't tell me you're here for the communion wine," the woman mocked. "I didn't realize the church was in such disrepair. The very gargoyles have fallen to the ground."

"Shut up," Kate spat. "You shouldn't be in a church. I'm surprised you haven't burst into flames."

They stared at one another for a brief moment, then pulled out their claws and began fighting. They scratched and bit and clawed at one another, pulling each other's hair and falling to the ground, rolling down the aisle of the stone floor, while the carved saints looked silently on. After a time, the Abbess rushed in and pulled them apart.

"How dare you defile the house of the Lord?" the Abbess asked.

"She started it," Kate whined.

"I do not care who began it. You were both willing participants. Now, go! Both of you! You are not welcome here anymore."

Isabella of Gisbourne glared at Kate. "Now, just where am I supposed to go?" she asked.

"Go to Nottingham. A house near the Trip. You'll find the very image of your brother there."

"What are you talking about? Guy's dead."

Kate looked smug. "His son's not. Congratulations. You're an aunt. I think it's time Seth met his real family."

Isabella's blue eyes widened as she listened. Another Gisbourne? Guy's son? How interesting! Perhaps he could be of use to her. Perhaps for once, the idiot Kate might just have made sense.

Isabella strode from the Abbey, determined to meet her nephew.


	26. Chapter 26

Marian sat straight up in bed, lifted her damp hair off the back of her neck, and heaved a frustrated sigh. It was becoming unbearably hot and stuffy in the rooms King Philip had locked her in with Robin, and Marian longed to breathe some fresh air.

Robin lay stretched out beside her, his head propped up on one elbow, grinning happily at her.

"How can you smile so much when it's so hot in here?" Marian asked, annoyed at their imprisonment.

"Oh, I don't think it's so bad. It was a lot hotter in here just awhile ago, and we could make it so again." He began to snicker and reached for her, but she pushed his hot groping hands away.

"I love you, Robin, but enough is enough!" she cried.

"Come on. Don't be a spoilsport, Marian. What else are we going to do?"

"Frankly, I would like a bath," she responded. "I'm sweaty and disgusting, and there's no water to drink or bathe in. How long does Philip think he can hold us here? Can't you come up with a plan that doesn't include the fortune teller? In case you haven't noticed, she's nowhere to be seen."

"_You_ could never be disgusting," he corrected. "Sweaty...granted. Disgusting...never."

"Sweaty _means_ disgusting when you're a woman," she said quietly.

"Not to a man." He put his face up close and tasted her. "Hmm, you're kind of salty. I like it."

"Stop it, Robin! What's gotten into you?"

"I just missed you, that's all. Is that so wrong?"

She looked into his wicked blue eyes and felt her irritation melt away. Soon, she was smiling back at him. "It's fine. I just can't wait to go home. And I _am_ disgusting."

"Since you insist...yes, you are."

"Robin!"

He laughed some more, then stopped to speak to her. "I'm sorry, Marian. I'm just so happy you're here. The King of France will not leave us here to rot. He's no King John. He'll summon us to dinner, and we'll make our move to escape. Trust me. You'll see."

At that very moment, there was a rap on the door and a herald announced, "Prepare yourselves to feast with Their Majesties. The King and Queen summon you to attend their banquet."

"What did I tell you?" Robin grinned, jumping up and searching for his scattered clothing.

"And what if the fortune teller isn't at the banquet?" Marian asked.

"Then we'll request she be brought in. We are the 'guests of honor,' after all."

Marian hated putting on her clean gown over her grubby body, but she dressed quickly anyway and tried to fix her hair. The humidity made it frizzy, and she felt unwashed and unkempt...worse than when she had lived in the forest.

She turned and looked at Robin, just before the French guards unlocked and opened their door.

"You look so gorgeous," Robin sighed honestly.

She certainly did not feel it, but she did not need to feel beautiful to make an escape.

...

Far to the west, Little John had arrived at Mirabeau, and was blushing beneath his beard while Queen Eleanor made a fuss over him.

"Why Big Bear, I must confess, you look even bigger indoors than in the forest! And more uncomfortable! Tell me, how do you like Anjou? We should journey just a few miles south to Aquitaine. I have often pictured us together there."

John's eyes darted nervously back and forth. He was at a complete loss for words.

"I like the quiet ones," Queen Eleanor cooed to no one in particular.

Much was thrilled to see Little John, and relieved beyond comprehension to hear that Robin was unharmed.

"Locked up with Marian?" he asked. "And that's supposed to be his punishment? I'd like to see what the King of France gives him for Christmas!"

Queen Eleanor smiled slyly. "Philip, for all his treachery, is no fool. He knows Robin's wife will prevent his escape far better than locks and chains."

"He doesn't know Robin or Marian," Much replied knowingly. "King Philip is in for quite a surprise, if he expects no tricks."

"I only hope you're correct," the queen stated. Thinking of her own desires, she ordered, "Come, Big Bear. I'd like to show you the rest of the castle."

Little John looked to Much with pleading eyes, but Much only laughed. "Go, on, Big Bear," he joked. "You can't refuse the queen!"

Much hadn't felt so carefree for days and days.

...

Miles distant, in Nottingham, Isabella of Gisbourne lifted the hem of her cloak, trying to keep it from the filthy streets.

A house near the Trip, Kate had said. That narrowed it down to a baker's dozen! What was she supposed to do? Knock on every door, asking to see her brother's son?

She drew in her breath, knowing that would not be necessary. She'd seen him!

There he was, walking alone...the very image of her brother when he had been a boy! The same hair...the same eyes...even the same nose and mouth! It was uncanny, and disturbing. Isabella almost felt frightened, remembering how Guy used to strike her across her face when she'd cross him.

She reminded herself she was an adult now, and the child wasn't Guy. He was Guy's bastard son, and Isabella had a use for him. She followed him furtively, watched as he ran an errand for his mother, then followed him back towards his home.

Before he went inside, she stepped from the shadows to meet him.

"Hello," she said in her breathy voice. "You don't know me, but we're family. I am your aunt, and your fortunes are just about to change."


	27. Chapter 27

Marian was very pleased to breathe the fresh cool air from open casements, as she and Robin were escorted by armed guards to the Louvre's Great Hall.

"Pretend our chamber is perfect," Robin advised her. "We need to lull Philip into believing we're in no hurry to escape."

"So," Queen Agnes asked, once they had been seated at the King and Queen's banqueting table, "how does it feel to be out of your rooms after 3 days?"

Marian couldn't hide the flash of fury in her eyes, but Robin was all charm. "3 days?" he asked, feigning surprise. "I thought it was but 3 hours!"

His words and charming grin met with universal approval from the ladies, who cheered his gallantry. Robin seemed to drink in their applause, but Marian grew increasingly embarrassed and angry by the stares and whispered innuendo towards them. She couldn't wait to break free from the stifling French Court and ride home to Locksley!

Was Ursula here? Would she be summoned to entertain them? Marian certainly hoped so, for the fortune teller was part of Robin's escape plan.

There was plenty of other entertainment. Groups of musicians played throughout the meal, while troubadours strolled, tuning their instruments and their voices, awaiting their turns to perform. The King silenced the other musicians and called forth one of them now.

"Raimon Vidal," he ordered, hoping to embarrass his "guests" from England, "sing us a song about Robin Hood and Maid Marian!"

The minstrel bowed and strummed his lute, then launched into a naughtily suggestive song concerning how the mighty French King had captured the bold outlaw and his lady, and kept them prisoner for three days without even locking their door. Robin pretended to be amused, all the while stroking Marian's hand with his thumb, trying to ease her through her discomfort.

After the odious song was complete, Raimon sang another dealing with the Lionheart's return to England, the pardon of Robin Hood, and his marriage to Maid Marian. The nobles all heartily approved the end of the song, which discussed how the newlyweds did not rise from the marriage bed until well past noon the following day.

Robin's abashed grin was a hit with all the ladies present, but Marian whispered to him angrily, "This is outrageous! How dare they find such amusement by our private life, especially with us sitting right here? They behave like-"

"Shh! It's alright, Marian. Hold on awhile longer, and we'll be out of here. I've seen Ursula. She's here." Turning to the King and Queen, he launched his plan.

"Your Majesties, thank you for thoroughly embarrassing my lovely wife. As you can see, she looks charming when she blushes." Pleasant laughter filled the room, and Marian couldn't get over how much Robin was enjoying himself. She wished she could adopt his carefree attitude, but they were cut from different cloth. She listened as Robin continued his speech.

"Personally, I've heard enough songs. If I may be so bold as to request a different entertainment, I'd really like to see the fortune teller who was here a few nights back. I'd like to thank her for conjuring my wife."

"Oh, yes!" Queen Agnes cried delightedly. "Let us have Ursula! She never fails to amuse!"

Robin's hand grasped Marian's as Ursula was brought forward.

The red head dropped a graceful but overly flamboyant curtsey at the feet of the King and Queen, and asked in mysterious tones, "What is your biding, Your Majesties?"

The Queen spoke up. The fortune teller was her special pet. "Robin of Locksley requested you himself, Madame Seer. And since he is our guest of honor, why don't we let him tell you what he wants?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Robin replied graciously. Addressing Ursula, he politely began, "First, I wish to thank you for conjuring my beautiful wife and restoring her to me."

"No need for thanks," Ursula answered, staring deeply into Robin's eyes. "It is always my greatest pleasure to serve _you, _Robin of Locksley."

Marian did not appreciate Ursula's implication, nor the embarrassed grin it placed on Robin's face. When she saw her husband quickly recover his composure and readjust his features to respectful dignity, she dismissed her unfounded jealousy.

"My wife and I," Robin continued, emphasizing their unity, "were wondering if you would be able to conjure anyone else?"

Ursula appeared to consider the question, while the Queen and her Court watched in amused fascination.

"It all depends," Ursula answered, enjoying her public discourse with Robin. "Who is it you want summoned, Robin of Locksley?"

Pausing for effect before delivering his shocking request, at last Robin answered, "Prince Arthur." A stunned silence filled the room.

King Philip was the first to recover from the surprise, and he spoke up angrily. "What joke is this, Locksley?"

"I do not joke, Your Majesty. You desire a trade...myself for Arthur. And since my king is in no hurry to present my royal cousin to you, I just thought I'd ask the fortune teller to do it for me."

"You realize this is impossible, Locksley! Remember what I told you about Arthur! Surely you don't fall for the fortune teller's tricks!"

"She brought my wife to me," Robin stated simply.

"It was a trick!" the king bellowed.

"Marian says it wasn't."

Tension hung thick in the air. King Philip turned to Marian.

"Do you mean to tell me, you were innocently going about your business at home, when whoosh! All of a sudden, you found yourself in France?"

"That is correct, Your Majesty," she lied. "I was just about to taste the newly made cheese on my estate when I suddenly grew faint. The room seemed to blur, and all at once, I was standing in your outer chamber!"

The king's face flushed with anger. "The two of you are deceivers, no better than this common fortune teller! Do you really think you can trick me? I am no fool like your King John!"

"Very well, then," Robin replied with easy confidence, "if you don't want her to summon Prince Arthur, than what about King John himself? Come, Your Majesty," he coaxed, "wouldn't you like to surprise John out of whatever he's doing now and have him brought before you? Wouldn't that be a surprise for him, to find himself at your magnificent new palace, surrounded by yourself and your men at arms?"

Slowly, the king began to smile. The very thought of John standing helpless before him was too enticing not to think about.

"Very well, then," he declared. "Let the fortune teller summon John Softsword!"

...

Far to the north in Nottingham, Seth eyed Isabella of Gisbourne with suspicion. "My aunt?" he asked. "I've never met you before."

"You are correct. We've never met. But your father was my late brother, Sir Guy of Gisbourne. Surely you've heard of him."

"Of course I have."

"And have you heard of me?" she asked, seeming to be all sweetness.

"No, I've never heard of you."

"Well, I find that disturbing! How could your mother keep me from you? Disturbing and selfish! Did you know that until recently, I was married to King John! That's right! I was Queen of England! Imagine...you were directly related to the Queen of England, and didn't know it! Here you were...working...struggling to survive, while all the while you might have lived in a castle!"

Seth looked surprised. "You were the Queen? Which one?"

"The latest one, before the King tired of me and replaced me with the juvenile Isabella he's installed in my rightful place! But never mind that! I have an idea how I might ingratiate myself to His Majesty once more, and I'd like you to help me. Can you help me, Seth? We are family, after all. And wouldn't it be fun for us both to take our rightful places as rich nobility, rather than grovel among the lowlifes?"

Seth's eyes shone, then he thought better. "I have a good home now. I don't want to leave."

"Did I say anything about leaving? Oh, my dear! All I want is for you to have what you deserve...your rightful inheritance!"

"Locksley isn't my inheritance. It belongs to Lord Robin and his family."

Isabella laughed lightly. "Locksley? Oh, Seth! I'm not speaking of Locksley! Let 'Lord Robin' keep his pathetic little village! I'm referring to so much more! Power and wealth beyond your dreams! That is what you were destined for! Now, all you have to do is listen to me and do exactly as I say."

Seth looked at the beautiful lady who was his aunt. It wouldn't hurt to at least listen.


	28. Chapter 28

Ursula was certain Robin wanted her to create a distraction so he could secure his freedom. Years ago, when he had rescued her in Genoa and they had spent a passionate night together, she felt she would do anything within her power to help him any time he needed her. She proceeded to create that distraction now.

"Your Majesties," she said, addressing the King and Queen of France, "at your royal command, I will now attempt to summon King John of England into your presence!"

King Philip sat back, laughing lightly under his breath. He did not for an instant believe the fortune teller's "powers," but he enjoyed making a mockery of his enemy, King John.

Ursula pretended to induce a trancelike state, and she stomped and strode, groaned and waved her arms about her head. She chanted and rolled her eyes, shook and trembled and quaked, collapsed onto the floor and rose again. She used her beautiful long red hair to her advantage, swinging its coils and catching it in the sunbeams streaming through the open windows, so that it shimmered like gold. So odd and mesmerizng was her performance, she soon had every eye transfixed on her.

Well...almost every eye. The instant all eyes were off Robin, he jumped up, doubled up his fists and threw a mighty punch over his left shoulder at the guard stationed behind him, then whipped around and delivered another blow to the guard on his right side.

With one fluid motion, Robin leaped over the back of his chair, crouched down and unsheathed one of the fallen guard's swords. His thoughts ran quicker than lightening. Should he hand the sword to Marian? He didn't want her to be forced to fight...to have to do whatever was necessary. It wasn't right for him to place her in that position. Yet, it would be worse to leave her unarmed and unable to defend herself. He quickly handed her the weapon.

Next, he seized the other guard's sword, and before anyone had time to react, he had grabbed King Philip from behind, lifted him to his feet, and held the blade of the sword to the king's throat.

The French King cried aloud in fear when he felt cold steel kissing his neck. As Robin had told Marian, the king was a physical coward.

Roused from their engrossment in Ursula's performance, many of the other guards rushed to King Philip's aid, but Marian pointed her sword at them, and Robin stopped them with a cry of, "Hold! Hold! No one has to die here today."

"Get back!" the king commanded his men. Then he asked Robin, "What is it you want, Locksley?"

"Well, since you ask, I want my purse, my knife, my sword, and my wife's and my freedom." Robin knew Much was taking good care of his bow, wherever Much was.

"Why should I let you go?" King Philip asked. "You'll just return to Normandy or Anjou and lead John's army against mine."

"Not if I can help it. Believe me, Your Majesty, I have no desire to lead an army of mercenaries against people who prefer to exchange John for you. What does England care if King John loses his holdings on the continent, if the people living there desire it? My only acception is Aquitaine...that remains Queen Eleanor's duchy, as long as she lives to reign over it. Now, I suggest you give me back my purse and my weapons, and guarantee my wife's and my freedom, so we can go home."

"Let the fortune teller spirit you home," King Philip suggested wryly. "She seems to be part of your plot."

"She has nothing to do with this," Robin insisted. "She was only trying to entertain, to earn a bit of silver. She knew nothing of my plan, but she comes with me now if she wants, since I don't trust you not to harm her. Now, are you going to give me what I want, or do I have to cut your neck to see if royalty really does bleed blue?"

Philip did not hesitate. "Retrieve Locksley's purse and weapons." His voice turned sarcastic. "Is there anything else I can get you, Locksley?"

"My wife and I request two swift horses to carry us to Calais, so we may sail for home. Ursula, what do you need and where would you like to go?"

Ursula stared into Robin's eyes. "I've never been to England. Can a fortune teller make a decent living there without being burned as a witch?"

"Try London," Marian suggested. "Nottingham has enough fortune tellers."

"It seems we'll need another horse," Robin said.

The king tried to regain some authority. "Impossible," he insisted.

"Well then, someone will have to share. Marian, will you ride pillion behind me?" Turning to Ursula, Robin questioned, "How well can you ride?"

"Not well. I've always walked. But I can try."

Marian almost smiled, thinking how sore Ursula would be at day's end. Then she was sorry her thoughts were so unkind.

...

After receiving what they demanded, they left the Louvre, though Robin continued to hold the king at swordpoint. Once they were shown their horses and the open city gate, Robin released King Philip. Marian couldn't resist throwing a parting shot at Raimon the minstrel. "Write a ballad about this!" she cried, tossing her head and leaping onto the horse behind her husband.

In no time at all, the three of them were on two horses, heading out of Paris for the north.

...

That evening, Marian was happy to be safely lodged in an inn in Picardie. She had washed in a basin of cool clear water, which had done wonders for her disposition. She now sat contentedly on the wooden sill of an open upper story window, looking out at the moon and stars and listening to the crickets chirp their nighttime chorus.

Robin was washing the sweat of Paris and the dust and grime from the road off his body as well. "Do you like it?" he asked Marian as he dried his torso.

"What?" she asked dreamily.

"The sounds. The crickets. They keep that racket up most of the night, you know."

She listened for a moment. "I like it. It sounds like they're calling to each other, like lovers in the night."

He put his shirt on and sat beside her on the windowsill. "You're in a wonderful mood, Marian, and I think I know why."

"Why?"

"You've been on horseback all afternoon. Am I right?"

"Maybe."

"And we're heading home."

"That goes without saying." She rested her head on his shoulder and let out a deep, contented sigh. Laying his cheek against her hair, he put an arm around her waist and smiled happily.

"I hope I wasn't too horrible to you in Paris," Marian apologized. "I hated being locked up, and I'm afraid I took it out on you."

"You were fine. I'm the one who needs to apologize, chasing after you the way I did when you were so disagreeable."

"Disagreeable?"

He laughed, making her smile again.

"You weren't very romantic, Robin, but you certainly were healthy. I think you must prefer me sweaty."

"I don't," he objected. "I love how fresh and clean you always seem. It just made me happy to have you locked up with me. I'd been a prisoner alone, and then you came to join me, and I liked the idea of us being locked up together, with nothing to do but..."

She turned her face up to his to be kissed, and thrilled at the feel of his lips kissing her so romantically.

"We can be locked up here as well," she whispered breathlessly.

A sharp rap on the door interrupted the romantic mood. "May I come in?" they heard Ursula ask from the other side of the door.

"Hold that thought," Robin quietly told Marian with a wink. He rose and opened the door to admit Ursula.

The fortune teller entered, walking stiffly from having spent the better part of the day on horseback. Being unused to riding, every muscle in her body felt sore.

"Is it very much farther to Calais?" she asked.

"Not so very far," Robin answered pleasantly. "And after Calais, Lady Locksley and I will escort you to London."

Ursula nodded, but she didn't want to go to London. She wanted to go wherever he went.

She wished he would thank her for helping him escape the way she had thanked him when he had saved her in Genoa, but he only had eyes for his wife. Still, she wanted to linger in his room.

"Let me read your palms," she volunteered out of the blue, feigning a cheerfulness she did not feel.

"Thank you, but we're rather tired," Marian explained, wishing to be alone with her husband. "We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"It won't take long. I'll read yours first. Give me your hand."

Marian grudgingly held out her hand, deciding this was the quickest way to dismiss Ursula.

With only a glance, Ursula uttered a strange cry and dropped Marian's hand.

"What is it?" Marian asked, as Ursula paled.

"It's nothing."

Marian rolled her eyes, fed up by Ursula's behavior. She hadn't wanted her palm read anyway, and now, she wasn't about to beg to hear whatever nonsense the fortune teller concocted about her.

Robin was also annoyed to think Ursula was trying to play tricks on his wife. "Goodnight, Ursula," he said, showing her the door.

"No, please! Let me read your palm."

"Apologize to my wife for trying to alarm her first."

Ursula bowed her head to Marian. "I'm sorry, Your Ladyship. I thought I saw something terrible in your future. Do you want me to tell you?"

"Very well," Marian sighed.

Ursula hesitated, then admitted, "A violent end. Of course, I'm probably wrong."

To Ursula's surprise, Marian laughed. "Not wrong, only too late. I've already been 'killed' twice, haven't I, Robin?" He nodded his head, smiling.

"Alright, now that that's cleared up," he said brightly, "you may as well go ahead and tell me my future." He did not believe in palm reading any more than Marian did, but decided to let Ursula perform her tricks so they could politely bid her "goodnight."

Ursula took his hand in hers and studied it long and hard. Robin and Marian locked eyes over her bent head, smiling their mutual love.

At last, Ursula spoke. "I divine many things in your future. Years of uncommon happiness...love, peace, prosperity, joy. Conflict building slowly. Then something huge. You are destined for greatness, Robin...you will change the world. Shall I tell you the bad that follows?"

"Why not?" he asked flippantly, still not believing, his mind on his wife.

Her voice was tragic. "Loss...loss of everything. Uncommon despair...revenge. Blood on your hands...a price on your head."

"That's not my future," Robin laughed, "it's my past."

Ursula shivered. He was wrong. What she foretold might have sounded like their pasts, but it would actually be their futures. "Goodnight," she said, still trembling at the visions she had seen.

"Goodnight," Robin told her pleasantly. "Sleep well. We should have a fair day tomorrow."

Closing the door at last behind Ursula, he turned happily back to his wife. Taking her in his arms, he asked with a grin, "Now, what was that you said about being locked up here as well?"

She answered him with a joyful kiss.

In the morning, they discovered Ursula had gone without leaving a trace, and so, they headed toward home without her.


	29. Chapter 29

"Mama...Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Mama!"

Robin and Marian clasped their darling little girls to their hearts and hugged them tightly. They were home at last! There were tears on little Ellen's lashes.

"What's wrong, Precious?" Marian gently asked.

"I don't know." The sensitive child hadn't realized how greatly she had missed her parents until she saw them again. There were tears in her father's eyes as well.

"Dragon story," Grace demanded.

Robin burst into loud laughter. "So, Apple Blossom," he teased, lifting his youngest and turning her upside down, much to her delight and to her nurse Mattie's chagrin, "is that all you think I'm good for? Telling you the dragon story? Well, what if I've forgotten it?"

Over Grace's squeals, Ellen answered, "You haven't, Daddy. And if you have, me and Gracie can tell you how it goes."

"Gracie and I," Marian corrected.

"Oh, so you remember it as well?" Robin teased his wife. "Very well then, why don't you three lovely ladies tell _me _the dragon story?" He scooped Ellen up and over his other arm, turning her upside down as well. Even Mattie was pleased at the happy laughter that had been so subdued while the master and his lady were away.

"The baths are ready, Sir," Thornton announced. "Shall the servants prepare a feast to celebrate your safe return?"

Marian was already up the stairs when Robin answered. "Yes. Invite everyone. This time I'm home to stay."

The sound of hoofbeats outside signaled the arrival of a guest, and Robin couldn't contain his smile when he looked out a window and saw Much hop down from his horse.

The two friends clasped each other in a strong brotherly hug, and Much sputtered," I-I-I brought you your bow."

"Much! Where is it?"

"I...oh, I must have forgotten it! It's still at Bonchurch! Sorry!"

Robin hid his disappointment. "That's alright...gives me an excuse to ride out there and visit your brood later. How's Eve?"

"Patient. Very patient. Still recovering from the pig fiasco, of course."

Robin looked warily at his friend.

"Don't ask," Much advised.

"Fill me in while I wash off the dust from the road," Robin suggested, and Much followed him up the stairs.

"Wait until I'm sure Marian's not soaking in here." Cracking open a door, Robin peeked into the room, then pushed it fully open to admit himself and Much once he knew it was clear.

They fell back into old habits as Much took Robin's discarded clothing, held up the pieces, and began to brush off the dust, while Robin climbed into a tub and scrubbed himself vigorously clean.

Much was diligently performing duties that were no longer his, while filling Robin in on the events he had missed.

"I was frantic with worry when you disappeared, until one day, Little John showed up and told me King Philip had locked you up with Marian."

"He did. For three days and nights. Best imprisonment ever."

"I'm surprised you two didn't kill each other!"

"Now, why would I kill the King of France when he gave me my heart's desire?"

"Not King Philip. Marian. You and Marian. Locked up alone for three days? You're lucky to be alive, Robin."

Robin chuckled. "She was plenty fed up with me by the time all was said and done. I, on the other hand, could have easily stood another week. Bring me a towel."

Much happily did as he was bidden, and Robin rose dripping from his bath. After drying himself off, he tossed Much his damp towel and began to dress himself in clean clothing.

"John returned to England with you, I presume."

"No, Robin." Much began to laugh. "He travelled south with Queen Eleanor. We don't know when he'll be back."

Robin couldn't stop laughing. The thought of Little John bumping into the elegant furnishings at the Court of Aquitaine was too much for him.

"Do you remember how Her Majesty never used to let a man into her presence unless he had first combed his hair?" Robin asked Much. "Well, I guess she's changed her standards. What else has been happening since I left?"

"Well," Much replied, thinking aloud, "other than the pig fiasco at Bonchurch, not much. Oh. Yes. I almost forgot. Isabella of Gisbourne is back, and she's got Seth."

Robin froze. "What do you mean," he asked angrily, " 'she's got Seth?' "

Much laughed nervously. "Just what I said. She's got him."

"How?" Robin tried to be patient.

"He's living with her. In Nottingham Castle. Set up like a prince, of sorts."

Robin stared intently at Much, his eyes demanding a better explanation. At that moment, Allan a Dale pushed open the door to the room and walked in, his face wearing a worried look.


	30. Chapter 30

Robin greeted Allan with a quick clasp in his arms, then stood back and gravely asked, "Tell me, what happened to Seth?"

Allan let out a frustrated sigh. "All I know, Robin, is Isabella of Gisbourne found him, took him with her, and presented him to the king. Now, the three of them are living together in Nottingham Castle, like one big happy family. One big happy _dysfunctional _family. Annie's worried sick. We can't get in to see him, except when the three of them appear on the battlements or lean out a window, waving to us in the crowd below."

Robin's expressive face betrayed his confusion. "I don't get it. King John _divorced _Isabella. And how does Seth make them a trio?"

Allan snorted. "You got me. Like I said, we can't get in."

Robin offered a suggestion. "You've got friends among the castle guard. Surely you've asked them for information?"

"Not bein' funny, but nobody knows anything."

Robin and Much stood side by side, Much mimicking Robin's pose and posture as closely as he could, while both men faced Allan. Robin tried his hardest to make sense of Allan's story. After a moment, he told his intentions.

"Much and I will pay a visit to the castle and learn what's happened, though I hardly relish exchanging pleasantries with Isabella again, or King John, for that matter. But I need to find out what she's told Seth." Shaking his head with an unhappy laugh, he continued, "I wouldn't put anything past her. Are you ready, Much? First, let me say 'goodbye' to Marian."

He left his friends to find his wife, and smiled warmly at the sight of her, refreshed from her bath, sitting with their girls on either side of her lap. Grace leaned against her left side, peacefully sleeping, while Marian helped Ellen quietly count the emeralds in her engagement ring.

"Daddy! Mama's ring's got thirteen green stones! I can count them!"

"Good work, Boo."

"Mama says the big stone's Lord Jesus and the little ones are the twelve 'postles."

"Theology as well as a math lesson! Well done, Marian!" He lifted Ellen and held her close, relishing her fresh scent and the familiar feel of her tiny arms around his neck. His hand gently stroked her baby soft hair as he smiled briefly into her face before turning his gaze back to Marian.

"I need to go to the castle."

"Why?"

"It's a long story." Ellen pressed her cheek against his. He was glad for the distraction.

"And you haven't the time for it?"

He paused, knowing he owed her the truth. She wasn't going to like it. "Isabella of Gisbourne is back, up to her old tricks."

"Isabella!" She nearly woke up Grace.

"Allan's here. I'll let him fill you in. I'll be back for the feast."

Marian laid a hand on his arm, stopping him from going so abruptly. "Robin, if the king knows you've returned, what's to stop him from sending you back to battle?"

"Don't worry, Marian," he grinned down at her. "I have a plan."

A plan? How could he have a plan?

"Robin, what sort of plan?"

"Trust me," he answered , a confident smile lighting his face.

He planted a kiss on Ellen's cheek and set her down, then kissed two of his own fingers and gently touched them to the top of Grace's sleeping head.

Crouching down to meet Marian at her eye level, he said, "I love you, Marian. I'll be back soon. Wish me luck."

They kissed goodbye, but he could sense her overabiding frustration. He hoped she wouldn't do anything foolish while he was gone, but didn't say anything, knowing his words would be useless if she made up her own mind to act.

...


	31. Chapter 31

"-and before I knew it, the entire squadron of pigs was stampeding through my house, upstairs and down! That is, if 'squadron' is the word I want. What is a group of pigs called, Robin? Not a gaggle...that's geese. A bevy? No, that can't be right." Much smiled. "I must be hungry for poultry! What's a group of pigs called, Robin? Robin?"

"Hmm?"

"A group of pigs. What do you call a group of pigs? You know...it's not a gaggle. Is it a clan?"

"It's a herd, Much. A herd of pigs."

"I knew that! Yes, 'herd.' Very good! Well, anyway, the entire _herd_ of pigs was stampeding through my house!"

Robin raised an arm in a gesture to quiet his friend. "Much," he urged quietly. "I need to think."

They had reached Nottingham Castle, and were waiting in an outer chamber for a page to return from having announced their presence to King John. The page returned, and nervously bade them enter.

Robin steeled himself to face the two people in the world he despised most of all, now that Guy of Gisbourne and Sheriff Vaisey were no longer living. He entered the chamber and bowed to the king, with Much right behind him.

A quick glance was enough for Robin to notice the sparks issuing from Isabella as her blue eyes drank in his form. He could almost feel the sexual tension emanating from her, and for once, he was glad Marian was not by his side, relieved his beloved wife would be spared King John's and Isabella's vicious mockery.

"Locksley!" King John's spoiled voice whined, sparing Much by completely ignoring his presence. "What do you mean by showing your pretty little face here? Just because you won one victory for me, doesn't mean I'll give you a medal! I am not my brother Richard, after all! Why didn't you kill more Frenchmen, by the way? Oh, certainly, you rescued my dear Mumsie, but why did you let the enemy live to fight against me another day?"

"We won the battle with no blood splilt, Your Majesty, reclaiming the castle and town of Mirabeau. I consider that a double victory."

"So I suppose you want two medals," John scoffed.

"No, Sire."

Robin stared questioningly at Isabella, who sat enthroned beside John, as if she were queen once again. Her carriage was regal, her expression mocking, mimicking her royal lover's.

Robin's voice broke the awkward silence. "Isabella," he began coldly, "it appears you've been busy while I've been away."

"Pleasing my king can be most exhausting...but highly rewarding!" She smiled at John, and together they burst into loud giggles signifying naughty pleasure. Much shot Robin an uncomfortable look of disgust.

Tiring at last from his fit of giggling, John rose and strode toward Robin, twisting his jewel encrusted rings adding weight to his hands.

"So, are you prepared to return to the continent to lead my army, Locksley? Why you're back in the first place is beyond me!"

"Your Majesty," Robin began, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up in amused satisfaction, "I'm not going back."

"Not going back? You dare to defy my orders?"

"I dare not refuse those of Queen Eleanor, rather."

"Mumsie?" John cried in alarm. "What has Mumsie to do with this? I am your monarch...not that old harridan!"

"Nevertheless, she orders me to stay home. And if I disobey, she threatens to purchase your army of mercenaries by paying them more than you can and set them fighting against you."

The king's jaw dropped. "Mumsie wouldn't do that to her baby boy!"

"Well," Robin drawled, wearing the same ironic smile he gave a poisoned Vaisey when he informed him there was no antidote to Joseph's poison, "your family does have a tradition of plotting against one another."

"No!" John pouted. He stamped his foot and burst into angry tears. "No!"

No matter that years before he had joined his mother and brothers in seizing the throne from their father King Henry. No matter that John himself had plotted to keep his brother Richard a prisoner in Bavaria so he could continue to act as king in his absence. "It's not fair!" John whined.

Robin tried to hide his amusement. He had made up the story, yet John believed it. Robin had guessed he would. It contained "an inch of truth," for the Dowager Queen of England loved Robin more than her own son John, and would surely grant his request for aid if necessary. Especially now that Little John was installed in her Court at Aquitaine, keeping her in lively spirits.

But on to the matter of Seth. Neither Robin nor Much had seen him, and they still couldn't understand his role in King John's household. Robin decided to be direct.

"Your Majesty, I have heard you have a boy with you."

John took offense. "I am NOT my brother Richard, I tell you, Locksley! Just because Richard kept you as his favorite pet, doesn't mean I have a boy toy of my own!" He cooed at Isabella. "I prefer women, don't I, my sweet?"

"Undeniably, my king."

Robin heaved an angry sigh. "Your lies need to stop, King John." The very idea of the mighty warrior Richard as a man who bedded other men was completely false, spread only by John to discredit the Lionheart's name.

John eyes narrowed dangerously at Robin, who returned his king's look without a flinch.

Much tried to come to the rescue. "He means a child," Much explained. "A boy called Seth. Allan a Dale's son."

"What?" the king cried, ever easily distracted. "A peasant's son? No, no, no, NO! He is our son...the fruit of my loins, born to me by the exquisite creature sitting beside me!"

Isabella smiled a cold, proud smile.

Robin laughed in disbelief.

"Now I've heard everything! Is this your game, Isabella? Your Majesty, how can you fall for her lies? Surely you know the lad is no relation to you! His real mother recently married the tavern keeper of the Trip. His actual father is..." Even after all these years, it was still hard for Robin to speak aloud his mortal enemy's name, but he managed to do it "...Guy of Gisbourne."

"Nonsense!" John cried. "You are ignornant of the truth, Locksley! Come, let us dine in splendour, whilst I enlighten you as to the truth of the boy's lofty, royal lineage."

John rose and raised his mistress to her dainty feet. "Come, my sweet," he minced, "we shall correct Locksley's false impressions and let him feast on the truth."

"Robin!" Much hissed under his breath. "Marian's not going to like this! You promised to be home for your feast!"

"Oh, Much," Robin sighed, "she won't mind. We need to correct this farce and bring Seth home to his family."


	32. Chapter 32

Robin and Much were ceremoniously led by King John and his paramour, Isabella of Gisbourne, into the Great Hall for a royal banquet. Robin was relieved to see Seth, looking very well, standing in place at the royal table, apparently waiting to be joined by the King and his guests. Seth was clothed entirely in black damask. His elegant black clothing drew even more attention to his resemblance to his father, Guy of Gisbourne.

Robin pushed aside his memories of Gisbourne brought on by the boy's resemblance, and focused instead on the innocent boy. "Seth," he asked kindly, "how are you? Are you alright?"

"His name's not 'Seth,' " King John corrected, seating himself at the center of the table, next to the boy. Isabella sat on the king's other side, and Robin was seated beside her. Much took his place on Robin's other side.

"He's to be called 'Henry' now, after his grandfather, my dear Daddy, the late King." John turned to Isabella, sniffling. She used her napkin to wipe a pretend tear from his eye.

Much couldn't contain his surprise. "Grandfather? The late King? Unbelievable! King Henry was not his grandfather!"

"Shut up, Pudgy, or I'll lock you in the royal kennels with the other dogs."

The king turned to face Robin and changed the subject. "Do you know, Locksley, what I did with the prisoners you captured at Mirabeau?"

Tension filled Robin. He trusted the prisoners, including the Lusignans, were being treated fairly.

"You'll never guess!" the king continued. "Oh, this is too, too funny!" He giggled for a spell, then paused for effect. "I had them brought to London, French pigs, and had them roasted on spits!" He collapsed into another fit of hysterical giggles.

Robin stared at his sovereign in horrified silence, trying to take it in, but Much cried out, "You did what? That is revolting!"

"But such good sport." John narrowed his eyes and smiled maliciously at Robin. "I hear you, Locksley, were Philip's prisoner for a time. Why he didn't roast you is beyond me! You'd make a fine roast pig, Locksley." He turned thoughtfully to Isabella. "Can't you just picture him, my adorable girl, skewered and turning slowly on a spit over a blazing fire?"

Isabella gave Robin an arch smile. "Hmm, the vision is most satisfying, my king. I can almost smell his burning flesh." Robin cringed when he felt her slipperless foot rub provocatively up and down his leg under the table. He kicked it away with his free foot.

As upsetting as the story of the French prisoners was, Robin needed to focus his attention on Seth. The boy needed to be removed from these two maniacs and restored to his loving family. Against his better judgment, Robin tried addressing King John with logic.

"Sire, Seth here, or 'Henry,' if you must, cannot be your son. He was born before you ever met Isabella."

"Nonsense!" John laughed. "You have no idea, Locklsey, how far back the lovely Isabella and I go. Ours is a love story for the ages! We've had our ups...we've had our downs, haven't we, my sweet?"

"Oh, yes, indeed, my king!"

"Ups and downs, ups and downs," jested the king, his naughty implication made plain by indecent gestures.

"Oh, Sire," Isabella laughed, "stop! You make me blush!"

"My dear, you are long past the blushing stage, are you not?"

Robin, ignoring their asides, stubbornly persisted. "By my calculations you met, what? Six years ago, I think. How old are you, Seth? You're eight, isn't that right?"

Seth remainded still, but the king was growing annoyed.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Locksley? My son's name is 'Henry.' "

Robin decided to ignore the irrational ruler, and appeal directly to the boy. He stated in his most winning manner, "There's a feast in Locksley tonight. Promises to be fun. Would you like to come with me, Seth? Your real family will be there, wanting to see you. You've no idea how much they've missed you."

King John interrupted. "A feast! In Locksley? How very droll! Oh! I have a brilliant idea! Why don't we all go? Lovely Miriam can play hostess to her king and his lovely lover...and their son! Maybe she will wear an apron, and very little else! Quick, minions, saddle up some horses! We all go to Locksley!"

...

(Note: As vile as John's punishment sounds, he actually did sometimes punish people by roasting them on spits. His favorite punishments were starving people to death, or blinding them by pouring salt and vinegar into their eyes.)


	33. Chapter 33

Robin thoughts were spinning at an amazingly rapid rate as he tried to come up with a plan to rescue Seth. As the royal party approached Locksley on horseback, his eyes were greeted by a delightful vision.

Thornton, the servant who had faithfully served his father and himself for as long as Robin could remember, and who had been a surrogate father to him once he was orphaned, was supervising the other servants to decorate the grounds for the feast. Marian was in the yard cutting roses for their table, with Grace clinging to her skirts. Ellen was dancing circles around her mother. Allan a Dale, convinced that Robin would be able to rescue Seth, was lounging, stretched out on a bench near Marian, clearly saying shockingly funny and not so funny things to amuse and annoy her. His boy Allan was darting back and forth chasing Daniel and Saffia, getting in the way of the servants as they tried to work. Will and Djaq were helping set up for the feast. It was a vision of domestic tranquility Robin knew was about to change.

Faces fell as they recognized King John and Isabella of Gisbourne. Stableboys rushed forward to grab reins, and Robin leaped down from his mount to greet his wife. Her face registered furious alarm.

Ellen and Grace rushed forward with childish cries of, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Robin scooped them up in his arms and faced Marian.

"What did you mean, bringing them here?" she asked in an angry whisper.

"I had no choice," he answered quietly back, then immediately regretted the words. Thankfully, she did not respond with her "Everything is a choice" response, but they both knew she was thinking it.

Allan stood and looked longingly at Seth. He smiled to see the boy looking so well, wishing Annie was beside him. In spite of everything, he couldn't stop being slightly amused at the sight of Seth wearing his small Guy of Gisbourne costume. He almost expected to hear Seth begin barking orders at him. He shot Will an amused glance, but Will was taking this very seriously.

The king dismounted, waited for Isabella, and together the two of them approached Lady Locksley.

Marian dropped a curtsey, then arose with her face composed.

"Miriam!" the king cooed. "As luscious as ever! How did you find your sojourn in France?"

"It is good to be home, Your Majesty," she answered truthfully.

"Indeed! And tell me, my sweet, did you find Philip as handsome as I?"

Marian, accustomed to the king's vanity, could at least continue being honest. "You are much better looking than the French king, Sire."

King John gasped in delight. "Do I detect a note of desire in your voice? Can it be true that, after all these years, you are softening toward me?" He laughed wickedly, bobbing his head from side to side. "Your softening will have the opposite effect on me, I do assure you!"

Isabella jealously gripped his arm and turned him aside. She wasn't about to lose him again, after all her hard work. "Sire!" she exclaimed, "just see how charming the little village is, planning to fete you in its little celebration feast! How honored the pathetic people are by your magnificent presence!"

"Indeed, indeed. So," John continued, shifting into boss mode, "since the feast is honoring me, and I am king, of course, it would amuse me to be in charge of the celebrations. No, no, no," he whined at Thornton. "Old man, don't have that table put there! Move it! Move it to where the sun will shine upon it fully!"

"Your Majesty," Thornton replied, "with all due respect, the sun will be low in the sky by the time the feast begins."

King John glowered at Thornton, his eyes narrowing to slits in his face. "Do you dare to question my authority, old man?"

Robin stepped forward, calling for Much and Will. The three of them lifted the heavy table themselves and moved it out of the shade.

King John was irritated. For some reason, he had taken an instant dislike toward Thornton.

"Old people are so foul, aren't they, my dear?" he asked Isabella in a loud tone.

"So horribly ugly," she agreed, holding tightly to Seth's hand.

"It's an insult, really," John continued, "showing their faces before me. I shouldn't have to put up with it. It offends." He turned his scowling face back to Thornton.

"Old man, dance for me."

"Your Majesty?"

"Dance."

Robin strode forward. His tone was firm, yet charming. "King John, you hold ultimate authority, but I cannot allow you to humiliate my servants. Now, it would be my honor were you and your lady to accompany my wife and me inside the manor, so we may permit the servants to finish their work for your feast."

The king considered. Perhaps it would be better sport to bait Locksley by flirting with the lovely Marian, calling her "Miriam," of course. He smiled, pleased at his own little joke. "Yes, show us indoors! The sun can be so cruel to our royal complexion, and we want to look our very best for the event!"

Robin quickly handed off his daughters to Nurse Mattie, sent Much home to Bonchurch, and advised Allan to go fetch Annie, before leading the king and his concubine, and their supposed son, into his home.

He glanced sideways into Marian's flushed cheeks. Her angry eyes wouldn't meet his gaze. For some reason, she blamed him for the king's presence. Or was she more bothered by the presence of Isabella?

...

The feast itself did little to assuage Marian's temper toward her husband. In fact, it only served to fan her anger.

Isabella had begged the king to let Marian play "maid" and serve them. "She is known far and wide as 'Maid Marian,' is she not, my king? So, let her be a 'maid,' at least tonight at your feast, and serve us." And so, Marian was dressed in an apron and carried trays of dishes to and from the king's table.

There was little Robin could do to stop it. After his objections were shot to earth, he jumped up and joined her, smilingly bringing food and drink himself to the king and his lover. And to Seth.

"Just get through this tonight, Marian. John will get drunk as he always does, then I can distract Isabella, and Allan can take Seth home. Once he's back with his family, we can find out how he feels about all-"

"Distract Isabella?" Marian hissed. "You want to 'distract Isabella?' "

Robin shot her a reproving look. "Now is not the time to argue. We need to focus on rescuing Seth."

"Don't tell me when it's not the time to argue! Why should you be the one to 'distract Isabella?' I would like to know what that entails, Robin?"

He was angry she was not united with him in his mission. Seth should come first, and she was being unjustifiably stubborn.

"Whatever it takes, Marian, short of breaking my marriage vows, of course. Maybe I should take a page from your book when you so effectively distracted Gisbourne, that time Carter brought my seemingly lifeless body to the sheriff."

"Oh, yes, I remember that." She pretended to give a yearning sigh, then looked back at him smugly. "It's a day I'll remember fondly all the days of my life." She touched her lips with her fingertips and sighed in pretended longing again.

Robin turned furiously away. Why was she being so difficult? He hadn't seen her so unreasonable since...then he realized.

It was Isabella, pure and simple. Everytime Isabella was near, Marian grew jealous. There was absolutely no cause for it, no explanantion, but her jealousy existed all the same.

He knew how she felt, having experienced the same feelings himself against Isabella's brother, even after his marriage, but he had had cause, he rationalized, and she didn't. She was just playing a game, trying to get back at him for all the times he had been jealous...competing with him to see who could be the most unreasonable. The more he thought about it, the angrier at Marian he became.

It would serve her right if he did kiss Isabella in front of her. He wouldn't do it, however. It crossed the line. It would hurt, and it was wrong. But let her think he might for a moment.

"Your Majesty, would you care for more wine?" Robin watched in satisfaction as the king downed another goblet. Most of the wine missed his mouth and dribbled down his chin. John's head swayed, then crashed upon the table as he fell into a drunken stupor.

Good! Part one accomplished! Now, onwards and upwards to part two...the act of distracting Isabella. Robin gloated, knowing Marian was sure to be watching. Well, he'd be sure to give her a good show, since that's what she so stubbornly was begging to see!


	34. Chapter 34

Without realizing he was doing so, Robin gritted his teeth in preparation to approach Isabella. By the time he reached her, however, his face wore a charming smile.

"So," he began, "just where am I supposed to put you to bed tonight?"

His friendly manner and very interesting question took Isabella completely by surprise. Undoubtably pleased, she was smart enough to be suspicious.

Robin continued charming. "When the King invited himself to my feast, I didn't expect he'd require beds for the night."

"Well," she smiled back, still grasping onto Seth's hand, "you obviously haven't dined with His Majesty for quite some time. He's drunk every night."

"Can't be much fun for you." Robin looked deeply into her eyes.

She laughed breezily. "I have no complaints. John's a much better lover than a husband." She raised one eyebrow and mocked playfully, "Unlike you. I'm assuming you're a much better husband than a lover."

Now it was Robin's turn to laugh. "I don't know whether you just paid me a compliment or insulted me."

"A little of both." Her eyes were flirting.

Robin glanced in Marian's direction. "My wife, it seems, would disagree with you tonight, I fear."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"And you're to blame."

"Me? What did I do?"

"She's jealous." He was pleased when she let go of Seth's hand and shooed him away.

"Go play," she ordered coldly. This was proving easier than he'd expected. Robin resisted the urge to shoot Marian an "I told you so" look.

Isabella faced Robin. "And does she have cause to be jealous?"

He laughed that slightly nervous laugh of his she found so attractive. "You know the answer to that as well as I do," he answered.

Linking arms, they began to walk. Robin could feel Marian's eyes boring into him. Good! This was doubly satisfying.

"Jealousy," Isabella was saying, as if she were giving a lecture,"doesn't have to stem from activities from the past."

"No?"

"No. Not when the future holds so many possibilities."

Although smiling at one another, Seth continued to hold both their attentions. Robin was pleased to see the boy had gone to play with his stepbrother Allan. He noticed Allan a Dale advising Annie to hold back. Isabella was watching Seth like a hawk. Well, Robin would need to step up his distraction game a notch or two. Wouldn't Marian be livid?

"Speaking of the future," he resumed, "I wish my fortune teller friend was here with us."

She laughed. "Fortune teller? You do manage to collect the oddest assortment of friends, Robin. And I take offense that you say you'd rather not be alone with me."

"You shouldn't. She's a very good friend. An old acquaintance I crossed paths with in more than one country, though hardly old. She's very talented. And not bad at spinning yarns about people's futures, either."

"Now you're making me jealous." They stopped walking. "And just what do you think she'd foretell about us?"

If he was going to step up the "distraction," he needed to step away from the curious eyes of his villagers. Recovering Seth was his goal, and if it taught Marian a lesson, so much the better. But he stopped short of shaming his wife and himself by openly flirting with another woman. His conscience told him to stop. Or at least find a more secluded spot. He pushed aside his conscience and opted for the latter.

...


	35. Chapter 35

"I asked you a question, Robin Hood. What do you think your fortune teller friend would predict about our future together?"

Isabella let herself be led inside a nearly deserted Locksley Manor, where Robin knew it would be harder for her to watch Seth. Nevertheless, he noticed her eyes dart out a window and locate the boy. Well, he would just have to focus her attention completely on him. That shouldn't be too difficult!

Smiling his most charmingly, he drew close to her and spoke in a confiding, alluring tone. "I no longer go by that name, you know. In case you haven't heard, I was pardoned."

"Not by me you weren't. I don't think I'll ever be able to pardon you, Robin Hood."

"Well, I'll just have to try and see if I can change your mind about that."

His words and manner had inadvertently led them right up to the moment he should kiss her, but that wasn't part of his plan. He had no intention of kissing her...he merely wanted to distract her so that Allan could spirit Seth away. The plan was for Allan's family to hide at Bonchurch tonight, until they decided where they should go from there.

Nonetheless, Isabella was clearly expecting to be kissed. When she wasn't, she opened her eyes and stared questioningly at Robin.

"I'm waiting," she said.

"For what?"

"For you to change my mind, like you promised."

He grinned, trying to be amusing. "Ah! Well, I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about that."

"Are you now?" She stared at him unpleasantly as her suspicions arose, then shot a quick glance out the window. Seth was nowhere to be seen. Isabella screamed.

"He's gone!"

"Who?" Robin stiffled his grin and tried to sound casual. He had forgotten how very shrill her voice could be.

"Who do you think?" Realization dawned on her. "You were behind this!" she cried.

He looked innocently from side to side. "Behind what? You know, Isabella, you really shouldn't take things so hard. It takes a good deal off your glamour, you know."

Just at that moment, Marian stormed into the manor. She had watched them strolling together outside, and was furious at the looks passing between them. How dare he? Wouldn't it have been just as easy to have hit Isabella over the head, rendering her unconscious, and rescuing Seth that way? In fact, it would have been enjoyable! Marian would have gladly volunteered to do the honors herself. She was tempted to do it anyway, even if it was no longer necessary.

And as for Robin...oh! Marian's blood boiled just thinking about what she'd like to do to him! She didn't know how yet, but she'd make him pay!

At least she hadn't caught them in a compromising situation. Robin actually looked genuinely pleased to see her; Isabella frantic. Marian had witnessed Allan and Annie lead Seth to safety, thus accomplishing their mission satisfactorially. But Marian was not about to stand back and listen to Robin gloat. It was time to take issue with his methods.

"I'd like to speak with my husband alone," she said, dismissing Isabella.

"Where's my son?" Isabella cried.

Robin appeared baffled and amused. "You have none, as far as I know." He continued, smiling smugly. "Now, I believe our whole conversation began with me trying to decide the best sleeping arrangements for you and the king." Turning to face Marian, he innocently asked, "You wouldn't mind us giving up our room to the king, just for tonight? He is royalty, after all."

"He may sleep there till Doomsday, for all I care. I'll sleep in one of the vacant rooms from here on out. You feel free to make your own arrangements."

Robin's eyes glimmered. This was already proving to be more fun than his recent sparring match with Isabella, who now stood idly by, wringing her hands with worry over what King John would do when she no longer held the novelty of Seth over him.

Robin smiled at Marian with implied intimate promises. "My so called 'arrangements' will be to join you, wherever you choose to settle, for wherever you go, that's where I intend to lodge."

"Intending and lodging are two very different things, when you don't deserve any better."

She threw him a self satisfied smile, thinking she'd won, but she didn't take into account how greatly he was enjoying the game. His lips were fairly itching to kiss her, his body ready to find some place, any place, to go with her to spend the night. He felt confident he could win his way back into any bed she chose to sleep in.

"I'll go tell Thornton right now to have someone make up a bed for us in one of the spare rooms," he said, grinning devillishly at her.

Marian raised haughty eyebrows at him. "Much is right," she said supercilliously. "You never do listen. I told you I would be sleeping alone from now on."

"A challenge?"

"A statement."

Robin chuckled under his breath. He never tired of that exchange.

He guessed correctly she wasn't enjoying this as much as he was. But it was alright...he'd be sure and make it up to her, as soon as he got her alone. If he got her alone. Her defiant eyes were beginning to give him doubts. He'd better begin the reconciliation.

"The sun's nearly set, Marian."

"It does that daily."

"But surely you haven't forgotten our pact?"

She remembered it, but felt he had some nerve bringing it up now.

"We promised never to let the sun go down on our anger, remember?"

She huffed lightly. "That pact was broken long ago. I've personally gone to bed angry at you too many times to count."

"And lain awake, miserable and sorry, only to make up with me in the middle of the night, or at first light. So," he grew dangerously alluring, "I suggest we skip the anger and go straight to the making up."

She turned on him furiously. "Aren't you going to apologize to me?"

He drew back, stubborn. "Apologize? What for? My plan worked, didn't it?" Both of them appeared to have forgotten Isabella was still in their midst.

"Your plan was ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Since it worked so well, in such a short span of time, I'd tend to call it 'effective.' "

"Effective?" She scoffed. "That is because you are a fool."

She turned to climb the stairs, but he grabbed her arm. Seeing how angry she really was, he reluctantly knew it was time to make amends.

"I'm sorry I made you angry, Marian. But you didn't mind me doing the same thing to King Philip."

Disbelief filled her face. "You did _not _do the same thing to King Philip, Robin."

"I did!" he protested. "You just took it differently." He unsuccessfully tried to smile his way back into her good graces. "I pretended to be charming, so I could get what I wanted. I do it all the time."

Her only response was to shake her head. When at last she spoke, he did not like her words. "Well, you're out of luck tonight, Robin. Your charms stopped working on me years ago. Goodnight."

He watched her, his face registering admiration and regret, as she climbed the stairs. He saw her enter their girls' room, and knew she would climb between them and share their bed this night, leaving him all alone.


	36. Chapter 36

Safely sheltered within the hospitable walls of Bonchurch Lodge, Seth sat beside his mother Annie, confused and avoiding her eyes shining upon him.

Eve bustled about her home, graciously making Allan's family feel welcome, and listened in silence while Allan and Much plyed the boy with comments and questions.

"So, Auntie Isabella claims she's your mum. Not bein' funny, but there's a reason her name starts off with a 'hiss.' "

"I don't understand," Seth said.

"She's a snake, young royal pretender," Much explained, proud he himself understood Allan's joke.

Eve shot her husband a gentle reproving look. "Be kind," she whispered to the kindest hearted man in the room. "He's had a hard time." Much nodded, smiling.

"Well, you're safe with us now," Annie sighed, completely happy again.

Allan fingered the rich black cloth on Seth's doublet. "I say we need to find you some new clothes. Seeing you all decked out in black gives me the willies."

Seth looked at all their smiling faces. They didn't realize it, but he was not pleased to be back with them. Until tonight, he had been spoiled and pampered by his beautiful aunt and the King of England himself! Seth's every whim and desire had been catered to. And so, although he had missed his family, he really believed he preferred to return to the castle. Why should he give up his glorious future as Prince of the Realm? For that is what King John had promised him.

His aunt had convinced him there was no harm pretending she was really his mother, for it made the king happy. Seth would gain everything he could ever want, and the wealth, power, and position of the Gisbournes would be restored. She had even explained that his mother and stepfather would never understand, but should be glad to see him so happy.

Seth snuggled up against Annie's side, content for now to be close to his pretty mother once again. They'd sleep comfortably at Bonchurch tonight, but come morning, before anyone else arose, Seth would find his way back to Nottingham Castle. As his aunt had told him, it was his duty as a Gisbourne.

...

In the middle of the night, Marian lay tossing and turning on her daughters' bed. Cramped, lying uncomfortably between her two precious little girls, she lay listening to their gentle steady breathing and watched their sweet faces as they slept.

Marian had missed them so much while she had been away. She felt she ought to be happy to be so near to them once more, but she did not feel glad.

The argument she had had with Robin was eating away at her. Even though she felt it had been entirely his fault, she missed his presence beside her in bed, and was utterely miserable over their anamosity.

Rolling over onto her other side, she stared at the door. This was ridiculous! She missed Robin and longed to make up and be close to him again. Unable to stand it any longer, she climbed out of bed and hurried into the hallway. Now, which of the spare rooms had he chosen to spend the night?

Before she could hazard a guess, she noticed candlelight coming from the floor below. Of course! Robin must be awake in his office, no doubt struggling over his hated ledgers. Her heart gave a little leap in her chest.

Quickly descending the stairs, she did indeed find him at his desk, his face in the candlelight a study of frustrated puzzlement, one hand raking through his hair as if to pull it out by its roots.

Marian cleared her throat lightly and interrupted his thinking. "I have to admit, Robin, you are certainly responsible. I'm sure those books need your attention, but there aren't many lords who would crack them open their first night home."

He looked up, his smile betraying just how pleased he was to see her.

"Couldn't sleep," he confessed.

She smiled back. "Me neither."

He held out his arms and she rushed forward and climbed onto his lap. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked, smiling appealingly into her sparkling eyes.

"Almost."

"But not entirely? Good. I like the idea of having to change your mind."

At first, they continued smiling into each other's faces, but smiles soon turned into tentative kisses, and tentative ones quickly grew heated.

"Let's promise never to fight again," Marian murmured, between kisses.

"Hmm, never."

"And never to spend a night apart."

"Not if we can help it."

"We may still argue, of course."

"You're enjoying making up the rules."

He was laughing good naturedly at her with that remark, but she stopped his laughter with the intensity of her kiss.

The sparks from their argument served them well, and all was forgiven in the blaze of the tremendous fire they ignited.

...

Afterwards, they lay entwined together on the narrow bed in the room that had been Robin's before he became Lord Locksley. Moonlight illuminated the room, bathing everything in its soft glow. Marian was contentedly studying a fanciful tapestry hanging on the wall opposite the bed.

The tapestry had clearly been designed to please a child's imagination. It depicted a mighty tree, its branches filled with birds. A robin perched on the topmost branch of the tree...a wren was on the branch below.

"I always wondered why your mother put the wren _below_ the robin," Marian mused.

"I told her to do it," Robin grinned, "since you were always so competitive, trying unsuccessfully to best me."

"Funny how someone as little as you could have had such a big head," she teased.

The marvelous tapestry continued to hold her attention. "I never can get over how exqusite her work was," Marian sighed. "I wish I could have known her better. Do you believe what people say...that our departed loved ones are watching over us from Heaven?"

"I certainly hope no one's been watching the last quarter hour!"

"Robin, be serious! Do you think our parents are in Heaven, taking care of Richard for us?"

He wasn't sure where her sentimentality was coming from, but he liked it all the same. It felt right, listening to her lovely voice muse about his mother in Heaven, as he fell asleep in the bed where his mother used to tuck him in at night.

He privately hoped it wouldn't be long until another little boy occupied this room.


	37. Chapter 37

Robin and his family were just finishing breakfast when Allan a Dale came riding to their doorstep...riding as quickly as if all the demons in hell were chasing him. Without waiting to be shown inside, he slid from his horse's back and burst through the door, his eyes wearing a look of hopeless disbelief.

"He's gone," Allan announced with finality. "Robin, Seth's gone."

Robin immediately rose and dashed up the staircase to his room, with Allan at his heels. Pushing open the door, they saw King John and Isabella still sleeping soundly in Robin's bed.

"Where is he, you whoreson bastard?" Allan demanded to know from his sleeping king.

"Allan." Robin's voice was calm but firm. Its power seemed to steady Allan. Pulling his friend from the room, he shut the door behind them. They descended the staircase and rejoined Marian and the girls.

"We'll find Seth, Allan. I swear it. Tell me, has he ever been known to walk in his sleep?"

"Walk in his sleep?" Allan asked, aghast. "What the hell, Robin? He didn't go out for a stroll! That royal bastard's got him again!"

Robin inwardly cringed. He'd prefer Allan to guard his tongue in front of his "ladies." But he knew that now was not the time to upbraid him for his choice of colorful language.

"It can't have been the king," Robin stated. "He's been sleeping off the effects of my wine and ale all night. For all he knows, Seth's still under my roof. But as for Isabella...now she presents a different story."

"No, Daddy. No different story. Dragon story." Grace was singleminded in her preferences.

Robin solemnly scooped Grace up in one arm and held her against his side. She amused herself by poking her finger in and out of his ear.

The fact that Isabella was sleeping so soundly made Robin's suspicions rise. "Somebody needs to wake Isabella and have a word with her," he decided.

"I'll do the honors," Marian immediately volunteered, surprising her husband and taking him completely off guard.

"Whoa ho!" Allan cried approvingly. "Give her your level worst, Marian. It's more than she deserves."

Robin wasn't at all sure the chore should fall to his wife. He smelled trouble. But Marian was determined. After handing Ellen to Robin, she smiled triumphantly in his face and ran up the stairs to face her arch enemy.

She had absolutely no qualms about charging in on her sovereign and his mistress while they lay asleep in her bed. It was her house, after all, and they were practically trespassing.

She stopped short of yanking the covers off Isabella, settling instead for kicking at her with her foot...hard.

"Get up," she ordered briskly. "You have some explaining to do."

Isabella stirred while John continued sleeping off last night's stupor. Fully awake at last, Isabella raised herself on her elbows and glared at Marian.

"As greatly as I wish it were true, I have nothing to explain. Your loyal husband barely laid a finger on me, more's the pity."

"We are not discussing Lord Locksley. We're discussing Seth. He's gone."

"I know he's gone," Isabella whined. "I tried bringing it up to you last night, but you and Robin were too engrossed in shooting sparks at each other during your argument to pay me any attention whatsoever."

"Where have you put the boy, Isabella?" Marian persisted.

"You're asking me? Believe me, I only wish I knew." Her eyes clouded with worry as she looked at the king. "Do you have any idea what he'll do to me when he learns I let Henry be taken?"

"His name's not Henry; it's Seth. Where is he? His stepfather is downstairs right now, worried sick."

Isabella found amusement in Allan's pain. "Allan a Dale!" she cooed. "Good! Let him stew. It's payback for the time he robbed me."

"Are you referring to the time he stole our jewels back from you, after you had stolen them from us?"

"But who stole them in the first place? Wasn't it your husband's little gang of misfits? Who were the real thieves, Lady Locksley?"

Ignoring her, Marian returned to the matter at hand. "Tell me where Seth is, Isabella, or I swear, I will kill you."

At this moment, King John awakened, looking ridiculous with his hair all out of place, lying lank on his head. His eyes were bleary from last night's overindulgence, but they lit up with a small flicker when they spied Marian and Isabella in the bedchamber.

"My dears!" he cried delightedly. "My God, if I didn't feel so rotten, just think of the pleasures the three of us could share!"

Marian dropped a swift curtsey. "Your Majesty, the lady Isabella has taken Seth and hidden him."

"Liar!" Isabella shrieked.

John shut his eyes in pain and covered his ears. "Ladies! My dear ladies! If you cannot be more quiet, I'll order your tongues cut out and serve them to my dogs for breakfast. Now, what is it you said, Miriam, my pet?"

"Seth's gone, Your Majesty, and Isabella knows where he is."

"I don't! You took him...you and your husband's filthy little gang of outlaws!"

At this point, Allan and Robin entered the room.

"Marian?" Robin asked. "Are you alright?"

"Where's my son?" Allan demanded an answer from the king.

"What would I want with your son, peasant? Guards! Someone! Get this man away from me!"

"Give me back my stepson, you murderer!"

The room went silent. After a brief span of time, Allan continued, "Everyone knows what you did to Prince Arthur, in spite of your conflicting stories. We've all heard you announce that he was drowned, that his body was broken falling from the battlements of a castle, that he died of a fever. Get your stories straight, can't you?"

The king stared in complete horror. How dare he? How dare the lying peasant? He, John, by the grace of God King of England, Ireland, and Wales, Count of Mortrain...how dare a peasant question him? How dare he even mention Arthur's name?

"I will see you hang!" John cried.

At that very moment, Annie entered the room and threw herself onto her knees at King John's bedside.

...

(Note: John never did suffer repercussions for murdering Prince Arthur. The explanations Allan said John used for Arthur's death in this chapter were the three King John actually used to explain his nephew's disappearance. The truth did come out during John's reign, and he starved to death the wife and son of the man who told what happened, after the man escaped.

Also, if you're wondering what all Grace's fuss about the Dragon story is, you have got to watch Jonas Armstrong read the Cheebees Bedtime stories on YouTube. The dragon story is #3. Once you hear his hilarious voices (my personal favorite is Lizzie the Armorer), you will understand why Grace demands to hear the story over and over!)


	38. Chapter 38

"Ooh! My dear!" King John cooed. "Such a pretty wench! Locksley, tell me, who is this pretty creature on her knees before me?"

"She's my wife, you-" Allan's intended curse was cut off not so much by Robin's upraised hand, but by Marian's act of clapping her hand over his mouth.

King John briefly turned his narrowed eyes toward Allan a Dale. "My, my...what luck for the tavern keeper! As soon as we shake this dreadful offending headache, we will grant you, Googly Eyes, the opportunity to serve your King and country by permitting us to sample the delights of your pretty little wifey here."

John laughed mockingly at Allan's outrage. It took all of Robin's strength to hold Allan back from charging the King in his bed.

"Steady, Allan," Robin cautioned his friend in his ear. "You can't protect Annie with a noose around your neck!"

It took several moments, but Robin's words eventually took hold. Allan regained control of his temper, and let the king's disgusting suggestions go unchallenged, for now.

Isabella grew alarmed as she felt her hold over the king slipping. "Sire," she begged, sitting up beside King John in Robin and Marian's bed, "send this rabble away and allow me to ease your headache with the special talents only I have."

"Bored by those," the king curtly replied. "I feel in the mood to sample this lovely wench here, rather than you. Nothing personal, my dear. Simply a matter of unchartered waters, you know." He held out a heavily jeweled hand and raised a trembling Annie to her feet.

"Don't be afraid, my dear, I won't bite. At least not yet!" Laughing wickedly, he continued. "Tell me, my dear, what is your name?"

Her response was so quiet, the king had to lean forward to hear her.

"I'm called Annie, Your Majesty. Can you please help me? My son is missing. He's the boy Your Majesty calls 'Henry,' but his real name is Seth."

The king blinked several times in outraged disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me, your son Seth is my mini Gisbourne? My Henry?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. His father was Sir Guy of Gisbourne. My boy favors his late father. I'm afraid his aunt here was tricking you, Sire, saying Seth is her son."

King John's face changed before her eyes. He turned a vivid shade of purple. His mouth hardened into a thin grim line. His brows lowered over narrowed furious eyes.

"Guards!" he shouted. "Arrest this lying whore! She's trying to steal my mini Gisbourne from me!"

This time, even Robin's strength was not enough to hold back Allan. The tavern keeper rushed the bed, but was captured by the King's Guard, who also seized a terrified Annie.

"Take them away!" the king commanded. "I want them both hanged! And quickly, attendants! Come bathe and dress me! It is time we returned to Nottingham!"

Robin's eyes sought Isabella's with an intense appeal for help. She answered with a triumphant sneer, highlighting her resemblance to her dead brother.

He should have known better than to expect any help from her. Blocking out all sounds of the king's simpering voice, Robin used all his willpower to focus his racing thoughts to develop a really clever plan.

How would he locate Seth and rescue Allan and Annie without becoming an outlaw again? It didn't seem possible. But he couldn't just run off to the forest again. He had a family to think of now, as well as his people to protect. Yet, the thought of standing by and doing nothing, while his friends were hung for no cause, was unthinkable.

He would do everything he could to save them. Marian and the girls would most likely need to flee the country with him, but they would survive somehow, as long as they were together. Much would see to his people...they would be in good hands.

Praying for inspiration and a miracle, Robin began to formulate his plan.


	39. Chapter 39

Bow in hand, Robin waited on his lookout high above the crowd of spectators, who had come to watch the tavern keeper of the Trip and his pretty new wife hang in Nottingham Castle's courtyard.

Marian was already spiriting their girls and young Allan south, on the way to Portsmouth. Robin had promised his wife he would rescue Allan and Annie, and then, all of them would need to flee the country and begin new lives.

He didn't allow himself to feel...to regret the loss of the home and country he loved. Instead, he focused his mind on the task at hand.

He had a clear shot and a way to the ground, where he would swing down to help Allan fight his way through to the open portcullis, once Robin's arrows had spliced through the hangman's ropes. Of course, it was dangerous, but it was the only way Robin knew he might save his friends.

Trumpets blared a royal fanfare, and King John appeared on the outside steps of the castle, flanked by Isabella and Seth.

Seth! At least he was safe, if only temporarily, since he was somehow once again in the evil clutches of the two fiends. Robin's mind quickly included him in the escape plans.

Robin watched as Allan and Annie were dragged from the castle. King John giggled as he flicked grapes at them. He missed hitting them with the fruit...mostly.

Allan's eyes roved the top posts of the castle, and found Robin. They signalled to each other with a look of trust. Then, Allan looked longingly at Annie, wishing he could calm her terrified eyes.

She looked back at her husband with love and fear, then she uttered a gasp when she spied Seth.

"Seth!" she cried aloud, smiling in spite of the gallows, to see her son safe and well.

"Mother!" the boy cried, and Isabella quickly answered, "Yes, Henry?"

"You're not my mother!" Seth cried, shocked to his senses by the sight of his real mother's danger. "And my name's not Henry! Let me go!"

King John gripped the boy by the back of his neck. "What are you saying, my son?"

"I'm not your son! Let me go! And let my mother go! She's done nothing wrong! Mother!" he cried again. Tears began pouring down his cheeks.

"It's alright, son," Allan comforted. "Keep alert, and everything will be fine."

The king squeezed the boy's neck harder. "Do you mean to tell me," he began menacingly, "you prefer this rabble to your king?"

"They're my parents...not you! And not my aunt, either! She tricked me, and she's tricking Your Majesty! I'm Seth, and that's my mother, and my stepfather! Just let us all go, and we'll go home and never bother you again!"

"Oh, I'll let you go," the king continued. "I'll let you all go together! Guards! Hang this brat, too! We'll have a triple hanging! Daddy, Mummy, and Baby, too! What sport!"

As if in sync, Allan elbowed and kicked his way out of his guard's grasp, while Robin fired down arrows upon the guards approaching Seth. Still fighting, Allan freed Annie, and Robin continued firing arrows, keeping all guards away. It hadn't been part of the plan, but the plan had changed.

Still holding onto his wife to guide her to safety, Allan ran up the steps, dodging Robin's arrows, and grabbed a startled Seth from the king's surprised grasp.

"Somebody stop them!" King John cried, as the family darted toward the raised portcullis. But no one could, for a shower of arrows continued to rain down upon their heads, protecting the trio, yet not hitting a single person.

"Get away, Robin!" Allan called up to his friend. "We're almost clear! Get away!"

But Robin hadn't time. A flurry of guards had climbed to his post, and surrounded him with drawn swords. He had no choice but to surrender.

Allan pushed his wife and stepson out the upraised portcullis to safety, but wouldn't leave his captured friend. Although there was little he could do, he couldn't desert the man who had saved his family.

"Oh! How delightful!" The king was in his element. He turned to Isabella. "My dear! Can you believe what Fate has done for us this day? We get to hang Locksley! Oh, joy of joys! It has ever been my dream, my sweet, to watch Locksley hang!"

"It will be most gratifying, my king!" Isabella cooed, excited at the prospect of Robin's death as well, and relieved that King John wasn't placing her lovely neck in a noose.

"What is going on here?" a regal commanding low pitched feminine voice demanded.

All eyes looked toward the open portcullis, to see Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine ride into the castle upon a glorious chestnut palfrey. Beside her, on a huge black steed, rode Little John, barely recognizable in his finery, with his hair and beard neatly combed.

"Mumsie!" King John cried. "Oh! Mumsie! Locksley's being nasty again! He's been a very naughty boy, so I'm going to hang him! Please, Mumsie? please? Don't make me stop! I want to see Locksley hang!"

Queen Eleanor stopped John's temper tantrum.

"You will do no such thing! It is fortuitous I arrived when I did, I see!" Looking up, she spied Robin, surrounded by a circle of upraised swords. "Let Locksley go," she ordered. Even though she held no true power in England, her every command was obeyed.

Annie and Seth had rejoined Allan, and the trio stood together watching the drama unfold, relieved and happy. Robin now took the opportunity to swing his body down from the battlements, thrilling the spectators below with his daring feat. Once on solid ground, he bowed to the Queen Mother.

"Arise, Robin, and come and greet me properly."

He did as she bid, and she leaned down so he could kiss her cheek. King John jumped up and down, stomping his feet in his anger.

"Mumsie! Mumsie! What about me? I'm your baby boy, not that wretched Locksley!"

"More's the pity, John," Queen Eleanor answered. "Now, if you don't stop your dreadful tantrum, I'll have Little John here spank you with that big stick of his! The wooden staff one," she clarified, grinning with a gleam in her eye.


	40. Chapter 40

"...And Tom and Lizzie opened up their own toy shop, where they sold wonderful toys to all the children. But their best selling toys of all, the ones nearly every child wanted, were their little toy dragons."

"Nice work, Daddy!" Ellen thanked her father with a wet kiss on his cheek for retelling her favorite story.

"More, Daddy," Grace requested.

"No more tonight, Blossom. Tomorrow's Sunday, don't forget, and we'll be getting up early for mass in the morning. And I expect to see my girls looking their best."

Marian helped her husband tuck the girls into bed. "And afterwards," she told them, handing Grace her poppet and brushing Ellen's hair from her cheeks, "Daddy will have new stories for you, the ones the priest tells us, darlings."

"About Lord Jesus taking away our sins?" Ellen asked, yawning.

Robin and Marian exchanged a look. "That's a pretty big concept for such a little girl," Robin grinned.

"I'm big," Ellen corrected. "Gracie's little."

"Dragon story," Grace demanded.

"I definitely need some new stories," Robin whispered laughingly to his wife. "If I have to tell that dragon story one more time, I think I'll make the dragon eat Tom and Lizzie!"

"It's too bad Robin Hood doesn't capture their imaginations the way Tom and Lizzie do," Marian teased. "Then again, I don't know whether I could stomach your retelling of Maid Marian. She comes across rather helpless, always getting captured and waiting for bold Robin to come rescue her, when the truth was..."

"...the truth was she saved him as many times as he saved her."

"More?" she asked, smiling archly.

He chuckled, not willing to concede that point. "Let's just say together they were stronger, and after they were married, they made beautiful babies together and lived happily ever after, while all the people cheered."

"Hurray! Hurray!" Grace cried, climbing out from under the blankets and jumping up and down on the bed.

"Go to sleep, dear," Marian said lovingly, while Robin caught the child in his arms and tucked her back under the blankets. Little Ellen already slept.

"Goodnight, Apple Blossom," he said, lovingly but firmly, as she settled under the covers and gave a happy little sigh.

" 'Night, Daddy. Love you. Mama, too. Ellen, too. Wake up, Ellie, I love you!"

"Shh! Let your sister sleep. We'll see you in the morning."

They kissed her and left the room contentedly walking hand in hand, listening to little Grace trying to tell the dragon story to her poppet.

Heading downstairs, they settled by the fireside to watch the flames, as they talked and dreamed of the future.

Marian laid her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers up and down his arm enfolding her body.

"It is so good to be home," she sighed. "I didn't want to leave Locksley, but I thought it was the only choice we had."

"Thank God for Queen Eleanor," he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

After a brief silence, Marian asked, "Do you think Seth will be alright? I mean, not just safe from Isabella and the king, but alright? Truly alright? Will he grow up to be a fine man, or do you think...?"

Robin smiled slowly. "He still needs a lot of care, but he'll get it, with Allan at the helm of that family. And besides, you heard Ellen...Lord Jesus takes away our sins." His smile faded as he briefly remembered the killings he had committed in the Holy Land. Marian felt his body stiffen, and she sat up and read his thoughts behind the pained look in his eyes.

"Believe it, Robin," she told him earnestly. " 'The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away,' and both acts are nothing but good and holy."

"We serve a good master," he agreed. Sitting forward, he suggested, "It's a beautiful night with that chill in the air. Care to go for a walk, or would you rather ride?"

"Hmm," Marian considered. "Let's walk. Just let me get my cloak."

...

Hand in hand, they wound their way through the fields, until they reached a sturdy fence. A blister on Marian's foot had been giving her trouble, so Robin lifted her hips and sat her on the top of the fence, where she removed her boot and smiled down at him.

"What?" she asked, as he stood smiling up at her with inquisitive eyes.

"I'm just waiting for you to tell me," he grinned.

"Tell you what?" She gasped in surprise. "Robin, how did you know? I mean, I'm not even certain yet!"

"When have you ever chosen to walk, when you could ride," he asked, "especially in those boots?"

"I just thought...I thought...I don't know for certain."

"Are you happy? How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling fine, which is why you needn't get your hopes up. Besides, I'd really rather wait a while, before I have to get fat and uncomfortable again. Sorry, but that's how I feel."

A shadow passed over his brow, and she immediately regretted her words.

"Darling, of course I'll be happy, if it's so. But let's just wait and see."

Robin still needed to be surrounded by people who loved him, she thought...the more the merrier, as far as he was concerned. He'd once teased her that he wanted a dozen boys and a dozen girls, and she wouldn't be surprised if that wouldn't suit him just fine. Well, one at a time, if her body would cooperate. She wasn't supposed to have been able to bear any children at all, after Gisbourne's near fatal wound, and Matilda assured her their babies were truly miracles.

"Miracles," she breathed, and Robin looked at her questioningly.

"Miracles. Ellen and Grace. And Richard. 'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be His name.' "

"Amen to that," he said, kissing her fondly.


End file.
